The 125th Hunger Games (The 5th Quarter Quell)
by hungergamesluv4eva34
Summary: Some people refer to this Quarter Quell as "The Zombie Games." In this Quarter Quell, when someone dies, their body will be turned into that of a zombie's. They will be programmed with one command: kill the tribute who killed them. Nobody knows what will happen in this very unusual Quarter Quell. Expect updates about twice a week. Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games; not me.
1. Chapter 1: The Twist

**The Twist**

Head Gamemaker, Adameus Fletcher, looks at his watch. In two minutes, he would be broadcasted live to all of Panem. After all, today was a day no one would forget. Today was the day President Trekk would read the card for the Fifth Quarter Quell.

Although he would not be reading the card, Adameus knew he still had a great responsibility. Since this was his first year as Head Gamemaker, this was the time he'd be introduced to the citizens of Panem. He wanted to make a good impression. After all, it would be hard to live up to the work of the past Head Gamemaker. Allen Trixie had been the Gamemaker for the past twenty-one years. However, he was reaching a ripe old age, and passed away two weeks after the Games ended. Then, I was elected, but the public will only be finding out now.

When I hear my name get announced, I step outside with a broad smile on my face. "Thank you!" I say to the thousands of clapping, adoring fans. I step up to the podium and glance at my speech, which is already lying on the podium. "I am very honored to be this year's Head Gamemaker. Now I know you all miss Head Gamemaker Trixie, but this year, I'm striving to create an even more exciting, exhilarating, Hunger Games!" This sentence brings on a roar of applause. "After all, it is the Fifth Quarter Quell. Now, I am pleased to introduce your president, Leviticus Trekk!"

As the applause begins again, I step off stage, and watch President Trekk open up the envelope that contains the description of the twist for this year's Quarter Quell. I have complete knowledge of what's written on that card, but I'm curious to see how Panem will react to it. "This year," the president begins, "as a reminder that the dead never really leave us, whenever a tribute dies, their body will be entered back into the arena as a zombie." This announcement brings oohs and aahs from the crowd. "Yes, if a tribute dies, capitol scientists will program the body with one command: destroy the tribute who killed them. Every night at midnight, all the dead tributes will appear, as zombies, in the cornucopia, equipped with nothing but a dagger and a tracking device to track the tribute that killed them. The zombie will then pursue the tribute who killed him or her. They will attempt to kill the tribute who killed them. If the zombie is unsuccessful, they will be fixed up by capitol scientists, and placed back into the arena the next night." The president looks up from his card, and the audience screams, shouts, and cheers as loud as they can. My guess was correct. The citizens of Panem love this new twist. This will be a year to remember!

**Hey thanks for checking out my story! The tribute list will come next. :-)**


	2. Chapter 2: Tribute List

**Tribute List:**

**D1:**

**Gemma Hound**

District: 1

Gender: F

Age: 18

Hair: Ginger

Height: 5'10

Weight: 144 lbs.

**Smoky Willis**

District: 1

Gender: M

Age: 18

Hair: Black

Height: 5'11

Weight: 168 lbs.

**D2:**

**Lexiana Porter**

District: 2

Gender: F

Age: 17

Hair: Brown

Height: 6'2

Weight: 158 lbs.

**Mars Poole**

District: 2

Gender: M

Age: 18

Hair: Black

Height: 6'

Weight: 173 lbs.

**D3:**

**Jillian Perry**

District: 3

Gender: F

Age: 13

Hair: Blonde

Height: 5'2

Weight: 91 lbs.

**Alfred Jarrod**

District: 3

Gender: F

Age: 15

Hair: Black

Height: 5'8

Weight: 110 lbs.

**D4:**

**Seabrook Gloss**

District: 4

Gender: F

Age: 17

Hair: Blonde

Height: 5'10

Weight: 152 lbs.

**Hull Weast**

District: 4

Gender: M

Age: 17

Hair: Blonde

Height: 6'

Weight: 176 lbs.

**D5:**

**Noel Jackson**

District: 5

Gender: F

Age: 14

Hair: White Blond

Height: 5'5

Weight: 99 lbs.

**Geoffrey Williams**

District: 5

Gender: M

Age: 16

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'10

Weight: 125 lbs.

**D6:**

**Kat Stanley **

District: 6

Gender: F

Age: 15

Hair: Blonde

Height: 5'8

Weight: 112 lbs.

**Troy Ross**

District: 6

Gender: M

Age: 15

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'9

Weight: 119 lbs.

**D7:**

**Ciera Dawson**

District: 7

Gender: F

Age: 17

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'11

Weight: 138 lbs.

**Jorge Mosley**

District: 7

Gender: M

Age: 15

Hair: Black

Height: 5'6

Weight: 114 lbs.

**D8:**

**Lynette Shultz**

District: 8

Gender: F

Age 14

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'1

Weight: 88 lbs.

**Jonas Cooke**

District: 8

Gender: M

Age: 16

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'9

Weight: 131 lbs.

**D9:**

**Carmen Sylvester **

District: 9

Gender: F

Age: 17

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'10

Weight: 139 lbs.

**Roland Fringe**

District: 9

Gender: M

Age: 18

Hair: Blonde

Height: 6'1

Weight: 142 lbs.

**D10:**

**Savannah Troy**

District: 10

Gender: F

Age: 12

Hair: Auburn

Height: 5'5

Weight: 98 lbs.

**Levi Dwight**

District: 10

Gender: M

Age: 18

Hair: Black

Height: 6'

Weight: 179 lbs.

**D11:**

**Piper Hagen **

District: 11

Gender: F

Age: 14

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'4

Weight: 96 lbs.

**Thurmond Richard**

District: 11

Gender: M

Age: 16

Hair: Black

Height: 5'6

Weight: 103 lbs

**D12:**

**Violet Copley **

District: 12

Gender: F

Age: 16

Hair: Black

Height: 5'10

Weight: 118 lbs.

**Eli Phillis**

District: 12

Gender: M

Age: 15

Hair: Blonde

Height: 5'11

Weight: 128 lbs.

**So, as you can see, I decided to put some other tribute data on the tribute list, to give a better visualization of them. A recap of the reapings comes next. If you read my last story, you'll know that I don't do separate reapings for every single character. When I read fanfics, I get really bored if I have to listen to twenty-four chapters of reapings. That's why I only do one. :-)**


	3. Chapter 3: The Reapings

**The Reapings**

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

I sit on the velvet couch, waiting for the recap of the reapings to begin. Hull and I have been on this train for two hours, and the recap still hasn't begun. They're probably having technical difficulties in District Twelve. It wouldn't surprise me; they're such a poor district. At last the television flicks to life, giving us a view of District One.

"Ladies first," we hear the escort say in a shrill voice. As soon as the name she reads off the card leaves her lips, a muscular girl in the eighteen-year-old section volunteers. The thing that strikes me odd about this girl is she has ginger hair. I've never seen a ginger in District One. Maybe she has ancestry in another district. I don't have any more time to wonder, because the male tribute has just volunteered. He looks just as muscular as the girl. These two will be a great benefit to the career alliance.

We next see District Two. A really tall brown-haired girl volunteers first. Now when I say tall, I really mean it. She's got to be over six feet tall. A strong-looking boy volunteers for the male tribute position. Once again, these two will be great allies.

In District Three, a thirteen-year-old girl and a fifteen-year-old boy are reaped. These two will definately be bloodbath tributes. Hull notices the same thing, and snickers.

Now we see our homeland, District Four. I can almost smell the salty sea air. I watch myself volunteer with a confident look on my face. Hull then does the same. As District Four flashes off the screen, I realize that that's the last time I'll see District Four; the last time until I win, of course.

Next we see District Five. A fourteen-year-old girl with white-blond hair is reaped; soon followed by a sixteen-year-old boy. Neither of these tributes look like a threat; especially the girl.

In the next three districts, nothing special happens. Two fifteen-year-olds are reaped in District Six. In Seven, a tall, seventeen-year old girl and a black-haired, fifteen-year-old boy are reaped. In Eight, a short fourteen-year-old girl and a sixteen-year-old boy are reaped.

In District Nine, we see the first tribute, other than the careers, who might actually stand a chance. A muscular, seventeen-year-old girl with long brown hair is reaped. Besides the careers, she's the only tribute, so far, who looks like she's well-fed and trained. I'm surprised she didn't volunteer. The boy who is reaped (a blond haired, tall, eighteen-year-old one) also looks well-fed and muscular. District Nine might be a challenge this year. Maybe we can get them to join the careers.

In District Ten, a twelve-year-old girl is reaped. For a twelve-year-old, she's pretty tall. A eighteen-year-old boy joins her soon. Although he's tall, he looks very skinny and under-fed.

District Eleven brings us a small fourteen-year-old girl, and a weak-looking sixteen-year-old boy. These two look like bloodbath tributes as well. In Twelve, a sixteen-year-old girl and a fifteen-year-old boy are reaped. They don't look like much competition either, but they might last a few days.

The Panem Seal shines on the screen, and the program starts over with District One. Our mentors, Shelly Stone and Ryder Poland appear at the door, and I turn the television off. "So, what do you guys think?" Ryder asks.

"Well," Hull replies, "Districts One and Two look like wonderful additions to our alliance. District Nine looked strong, so there might be a potential alliance there. Besides that, everyone else looked too weak to survive the first day."

Shelly snickers and turns to me. "What are your thoughts, Seabrook?"

"Same thing," I say. "I'll win in like, three days, tops."

"_You'll_ win?" Hull asks, standing up. "You think _you_ have the power to-"

"Okay, calm down," says Ryder. "You guys are in an alliance together, remember? No fighting until the final two. Now sit down, Hull, and shake hands; both of you."

Reluctantly, Hull sits down and puts a cocky grin on his face. He grasps my hand, but I can tell he's trying to crush it. We let go. "Good," says Ryder. "Now go to bed; both of you. We'll be arriving at the Capitol in six hours, and we want both of you to be somewhat presentable."

**So, there's the reapings. The chariot rides come next! :-)**


	4. Chapter 4: Chariot Rides

**Chariot Rides**

**Violet Copley (D12 F 16)**

I wince as another clump of hair is ripped off of my leg. "Sorry," the lady with the peach-colored hair says to me. I haven't bothered to learn her name. "We're almost done with your legs. Then we just have to style your hair and fix your makeup, and you're good to go."

I should probably be happy I'm almost done. However, I'm not. When the prep team finishes up, that just means I'll be turned over to the stylist and dressed in some weird interpretation of a coal miner. When District Thirteen was defeated after the 75th Hunger Games, the new president banned the "on fire" look because it was related to the second rebellion. A few years ago, they cut out a stylist's tongue for dressing the tributes in mining helmets with fire on the top of them. So that meant District Twelve was back to the coal miner look.

My stylist shows up, and I discover I was right. Although this miner outfit is nicer then most of them, nobody will want to sponsor us if we're in mining outfits. The outfit consists of a knee-length dress, black knee-high socks, a lighted headband, and black high-heels. I put it on. It doesn't look as bad as I thought it would, but it still won't get me sponsors.

When it's time for the chariot rides, Eli and I walk down together. As we board our chariot, the first one, carrying District One, begins rolling. There's many televisions in the chariot launching room, so we have a perfect view of our competition.

The District One boy is dressed in a tuxedo; covered in colorful sequins. The girl wears a dress with the same kind of sequins. I have to admit, their stylists have taste.

In the second chariot, the tributes are dressed in togas, and carry shields and swords in their hands. Their headpieces are very... unusual. They're made out of slabs of brick that frame the tributes' faces. They look kind of ridiculous, which makes me glad I'm only wearing a headband on my head.

District Three rolls in next; wearing jumpsuits with multicolored electric dots and wires all over. They're obviously meant to be circuit boards, but the nervous-looking tributes wearing them don't seem to be enjoying their costumes.

In District Four, the girl is dressed as a mermaid. She wears a sparkly green tail over her legs, as well as a purple bikini top; showing off her muscular body. There's also a seashell in her curly blond hair. The boy wears something unusual; a fishing net wound around his body from his chest to his knees. He holds a trident in his hand as well.

The District Five tributes are dressed as light bulbs. It's not a very appealing look, but at least it's something new.

In the District Six chariot, the tributes are dressed in white jumpsuits. A piece of train track runs from the boy's left shoulder to the girl's right shoulder.

In District Seven, the tributes are dressed as paper. Once again, I'm happy that it's not cliché, but it's not particularly impressive.

The District Eight tributes are dressed in black jumpsuits. A line of multicolored, mutipatterned fabric winds around their jumpsuits.

District Nine is dressed in gold jumpsuits with whitish-yellowish dots all over it; obviously meant to resemble pieces of grain. Whenever they move, the grain dots reflect the light. I have to say, it looks pretty cool.

The District Ten tributes have gone with an unoriginal look; a cowgirl and cowboy. They both hold a lasso. The girl waves her lasso in a forward and backwards motion, while the boy waves it in a circle. Together, they spell out their district number; Ten. That's something new, and it looks like the crowd loves it.

The District Eleven tributes are dressed in white jumpsuits with splashes of color on it at random places. Although it takes me a second to figure it out, I soon realize that the splotches of color are meant to be splattered berries.

As I take a deep breath, the District Twelve chariot carries me and Eli out onto the street. Although we get some cheers directed our way, I can tell we aren't favorites this year. Districts One, Four, Nine, and Ten seem to be the favorite chariots this year.

The chariots line up at the end of the street as President Trekk gives a quick speech. Finally, he finishes up, and I nearly run back to the training center elevator. As soon as I reach my room, I collapse on my bed. Training starts tomorrow, and I'm going to need all the energy I can get.

**Training comes next :-)**


	5. Chapter 5: Training: Day One

**Training: Day One**

**Smoky Willis (D1 M 18)**

I wake up and check my alarm clock; 8:54. Training starts in about one hour. That's a perfect amount of time to take a shower, get dressed, and eat. I hop out of bed; excited for the day ahead. I can't wait to impress, intimidate, and scare the tributes today. Yesterday, the girl from District Three nearly jumped out of her chariot when she made eye contact with me. Maybe I'll sneak up behind her at training and jump in front of her with a knife or something in my hand. I bet that would make her pee her pants.

After a foamy shower and a huge breakfast, I head downstairs to the training room with Gemma. Her and I have been training together since we could hold a knife. She's become kind of like a sister to me. It will be sad when she dies, but I'll make sure I remember all the fun times we had in the training academy; most of which involve me pinning her to the floor.

As we walk into the training room, I immediately spot District Two; the only other tributes in the room. Man, the cameras haven't exaggerated the girl's height. "She's six foot two," Gemma whispers; echoing my thoughts. "I read it on a tribute stats page."

The other tributes slowly filter in over the next ten minutes. District Four will be beneficial to the career alliance, but District Nine can't be overlooked. Finally, the head trainer gives a brief speech about not fighting each other, and we're set free.

Gemma and I immediately meet up with Districts Two and Four. We introduce ourselves, and decide to check out the simplest of weapons first; the throwing knives. Walking over to the knife throwing section, we each grab five knives, and line up in front of the target. It's shaped like a body, and has two kill spots marked off; the chest and the head. "I'll go first," I say.

My father always tells me to volunteer to go first for this kind of thing. "It makes you look stronger and confident," he said to me one time. "It also sets the standards high, which makes the other tributes nervous, and more prone to mess up."

Thinking of my father's advice, I place the knife in my hand, and chuck it at the target. Bingo; it hits it right in the chest. My next knife gets it in the head, and the third one hits the chest again. I mess up slightly on my fourth knife, hitting the dummy's shoulder. However, my fifth knife is a perfect kill shot; right in the head. I'm pretty happy with my results. Four out of the five were kill shots, and knives aren't even my best weapon.

Gemma goes next. Since throwing knives _are_ her strong weapon, all five knives trigger kill shots. Her fourth knife even manages to hit the dummy right in the pupil of its eye. This girl is pretty impressive with knives.

Mars throws his knives next. I can tell they aren't his preferred weapon. Three out of the five are definate kill shots, while one hits the arm and the other hits the stomach, which could be considered a kill shot under some circumstances.

Since we're kind of going in district order, Lexiana, the really tall girl, goes next. She's pretty decent with knives; four of them are kill shots. The fifth knife misses the dummy and hits the wall, but it's only about an inch away from the neck.

Hull like Mars, also manages to hit the kill areas three times. The other two shots hit the wall. One only hits about two inches away from the dummy, but the other shot is terrible; nearly half a foot away. Hopefully, Hull has some other skills. He scowls, mutters something about spears, and goes to collect his knives.

Seabrook doesn't seem to like the knives much either. Two arrows hit the chest, one hits the head, and the other two hit the arms. Hopefully, she's better with another weapon as well.

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

I put down the weight, and wipe the sweat off of my forehead. Roland just challenged me to a weight throwing contest, and so far, I'm winning. I guess it's from all the training I got back at home.

Back in District Nine, my family was pretty rich. Although that prevented me from getting tessarae, my parents still knew that my siblings and I had a chance of being reaped, so they trained us, just in case. After all, my dad's a past victor, so he knows what to expect.

Yes; Jules Sylvester, my dad, won the 98th Hunger Games. I don't think the Gamemakers have connected two and two yet, or it would be all over the television programs. They'll realize the connection soon, though, and we'll be all the talk.

Anyways, thanks to some friends my dad has in the Capitol, we were able to get our hands on the top training equipment. Since we each turned ten, my dad has trained me, my older brother, and my younger brother how to throw weapons, find edible berries, build a shelter, and stuff like that. My older brother managed to get past eighteen without being reaped; he's twenty now. My younger brother is twelve; fresh out of his first reaping. I was so worried that he'd be reaped, that I forgot to worry for myself. However, sure enough, when my escort picked a slip of paper out of the glass globe, it was my name she read. I haven't even told my escort who my dad is. I'm not ready for all the publicity. Luckily, my dad's not on escort duty this year, so he can stay out of the cameras. Not many Capitol citizens like to venture to the lower districts, so when they do realize who my dad is, he probably won't be interviewed; unless I make it to the final eight.

Roland, my district partner, figured out the connection right away. He's smart like that, so I decided to ally with him. He's also pretty strong, from lugging around grain in the grain fields every day from dawn to dusk. With my knowledge of weapons and survival skills and his strength and intelligence, I think we could make it very far as an alliance this year.

When Roland and I walked down here, I suggested we work with some spears. They're my best weapon, so I could probably give him some tips. I'm also okay with throwing knives, swords, and blow guns. Roland told me he's pretty skilled with a sickle from years of having to use them in the grain fields. Neither of us are too good at archery or axes. That's okay, though, because there's bound to be at least knives and spears in the Games.

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

"Wow, you have exceptional berry identification skills."

"Thanks," I say to the trainer. District Eleven does have its perks. I have been learning about different types of berries since I could walk and talk. It's become second nature. And, thanks to my berry skills, I've developed the perfect strategy for winning these Games.

Since my weapon skills are laughable, I plan to _outlast_ the other tributes with my survival skills. I'm going to try to hit all of the survival skills stations in the next two and a half days; starting with fire making, and now, berry identification. After lunch, which starts in five minutes, I plan to go to the fishing station, just in case there's a lake or ocean in the arena.

In a few minutes, the buzzer rings, and the head trainer announces that it's time for lunch. I walk off to lunch, not particularly excited. The six careers sit down at a table, easily making it the most crowded table. I sit down at an empty table on the opposite side of the careers. I don't want to be anywhere near them.

Besides the careers, there are only two other tables with more than one tribute sitting at them. The pair from District Nine sits together, and the girls from Districts Six, Seven, and Twelve do as well. So that means there are three alliances this year; so far. At least another alliance will form in the next few days, though. I'm very glad I'm not in an alliance. If I was in one, there would be a chance that my ally could kill someone, sending a zombie after us. No, it's best if I'm by myself.

A loud outburst of laughter shakes the whole room. I look over at the career table, where they're all doubled over in laughter. It's sick, how happy they are to be here. We're about to engage in a fight to the death, and they're having the time of their lives. Of course, that isn't entirely their fault. It's more their District's fault. From what I've heard, it's an honor to volunteer for the Games there. The parents _encourage_ their kids to train and volunteer. It's ridiculous. Although careers win over 75% of the Hunger Games, that still means at least 5 out of 6 careers don't return to their families. It's crazy, how confident they are. But, this year, the odds are against the careers. The careers easily kill the most tributes, so they'll have the most zombies chasing after them in the end. Hopefully, this year, someone from the lower districts will win. That's my only wish for the Games.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

Finally, lunch ends, and we're sent back into the training room. All lunch, I was sizing up the tributes; looking at who might become a potential ally. After all, in this Quarter Quell, allies are highly necessary for survival.

The career pack looked as strong as ever, but I don't think they would allow me to join their alliance. Even if they did ask me, I don't think I would accept. The careers will have hordes of zombies chasing after them, and I prefer to stay out of that. District Three looked pretty weak, especially the girl. The District Five boy looked like he had potential, but the girl looked weak and fragile. The District Six girl looked about average, and she has allies. The boy looked about average too. The District Seven girl looked pretty strong, but she already has allies. The boy looked pretty weak. District Eight looked pretty weak, but District Nine looked very strong. However, they didn't look like they wanted to ally with anyone else. Savannah is strong, for a twelve-year-old, but she's still weaker than the average tribute. District Eleven looked weak, but the girl looked very smart. District Twelve looked stronger than usual, but they still won't be a powerhouse.

So, in conclusion, I decide to watch the guys from Districts Five, Six, and Twelve. When we walk back into the training room, I decide to look at the boy from District Five first, because he looks the strongest, out of the three. He walks over to the spear throwing station, so I walk over to the knot tying station, and pretend to be tying a knot. He grabs the spear and launches it at the human-shaped target. It hits the dummy's stomach; a pretty fair shot. He retrieves the spear and throws in again. It hits the chest of the dummy. His third shot hits the head. Wow, this boy is good; especially for a non-career. So, I decide I want him as an ally.

I walk up to his as he retrieves his third spear. "Hey," I say. "What's your name?"

"Geoffrey," he says. "You?"

"Levi," I reply, holding out my hand. He shakes it, looking kind of uncertain. "So, I saw you throw that spear. How'd you get that good?"

He shrugs. "I've been practicing all morning."

"So, are you interested in joining an alliance?" I ask him.

"With you?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply. "I've got some experience with axes, and I'm not too bad with throwing knives."

"Okay," he says, the uncertain look coming back. "I think allies will be beneficial in these Games."

"Yes," I say. Although I'm a little uneasy about this alliance, I think it will help me in the end.

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

_Whack! _The axe flies into the fake tree. Although I can not claim to be an expert at axe throwing, I'm about as good as the average District Seven citizen; which is more than anyone here knows. No, I prefer the slingshot. They make pretty good ones here in the Capitol. I managed to put a giant dent in this fake tree, using just a rock as ammo.

My allies, Kat and Violet, look pretty impressed at my axe throwing abilities. Well, I am from District Seven. Everyone knows how to throw an axe by the time they turn five. Axes have kind of become a symbol of District Seven in the Hunger Games. Nearly all of the victors from District Seven picked an axe as their preferred weapon. If I win, I'm hoping to break that streak. District Seven can do more than throw axes. We do have some other talents; just like the other tributes do.

Speaking of talents, Kat turned out to be a pretty good archer. Today is the first time she ever shot a bow and arrow, but she turned out to be a natural. I gave up on archery after I nearly hit the trainer with an arrow. Violet hasn't really showcased any great skills yet. She was okay with throwing knives, but she wasn't a superstar. I'm hoping she has a secret talent that she doesn't want any of the other tributes to know about. However, that's probably not the case.

The three of us decide to try out the edible plants station, since none of us know anything about them. The only plants I have knowledge of are trees, but what help will that be? My life won't depend on knowing the difference between a hemlock and an oak.

Violet seems to have an excellent memory when it comes to edible plants and berries. She sorts out the berries into edible and inedible columns before Kat and I figure out just one berry. Violet does seem to be more brains than brawn, which will help out our alliance a lot.

The head trainer suddenly blows into a shrieking whistle. "Training is now over," she says. "Please report here at promptly 10:00 a.m. tomorrow to start day two of training." I say goodbye to Kat and Violet, and head up to the seventh floor. Tomorrow, I think we'll check out some more survival skills stations, since we did mostly weapons today.

**So, we're on chapter five, and I still don't have ANY reviews! I need to know if I'm doing a good job! :-/**


	6. Chapter 6: Training: Day Two

**Training: Day Two**

**Eli Phillis (D12 M 15)**

I wake up to the sight of the sun shining through the window. Great; another day of training. Another day to make a fool of myself in front of the careers. Yesterday, I decided to try out a few weapons, since I had never laid a finger on any before. I tried spears out first. Much to my displeasure, the careers decided to walk by as I threw my first spear. Well, you can guess what happened next. The spear hit the wall about six feet away from the dummy. The careers guffawed and laughed at me. "Hey, bloodbath," the black haired boy from District Two said. "I think you might want to get your vision checked."

The other careers chimed in too, referring to me as 'bloodbath.' After a few minutes, they finally left me alone, but they still hissed, "Bloodbath," every time I walked by. So, after my spear fiasco, I decided to try out sword fighting. I turned out to be pretty good, for a non-career. Those careers will be surprised when I whip out a sword during the Games.

As I walk down to the training room, I decide that today will be mostly a survival skills day. I'll work on sword fighting from time to time, but I'll focus on survival skills. Once the head trainer gives us her sermon, I head off to the knot tying station.

The trainer at the station starts me off with a few simple knots. Within an hour, however, I have learned a variety of knots. One knot can be used to secure myself to a tree branch. Another can be used as a lasso to catch animals for food. Once my hands have turned a raw red color, I decide to try out another station.

The edible plants and berries station seems to be very helpful, so I head over to that next. I learn even more than I did at the previous station, but I have a hard time keeping all of the berries straight in my head. The trainer tells us to only eat berries if we're 100% certain they're edible, so I decide to focus on about ten easily recognizable berries. Hopefully, one of them will pop up during the Games.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

I am glad I have found myself an ally. Earlier today, Lynette from District Eight bumped into me; literally. After a short conversation between the two of us, we decided to become allies. It seems we have very much in common. For example, we're both fourteen, shorter than the average tribute, not very strong, and horrible with weapons. We also have very similar views on a strategy for the Games. We both know survival skills are most important, and we both refuse to kill anyone. Obviously, if we won't kill anyone, we both know our chances of winning the Games are very slim, but we might get lucky.

Lynette and I have already hit three survival skills stations this morning, so I'm becoming kind of bored of them. I share my thoughts with Lynette, and she agrees that it's time to do something physical. We wander around the training room, looking for something to do, when a trainer walks up to us. "Need any help with anything?" he asks.

"Well, we're looking for something physical to do, that doesn't involve weapons," I reply.

"I know just the thing you girls would love," he says, grinning. He points to the ceiling, where a bunch of ropes overlap. "The ropes are a great workout. And, usually, smaller tributes are best at them."

"Thanks," we say to the trainer, and we walk over to a ladder. I get a good grip on the ropes and hoist myself up. I discover the trainer was right; this is easier than I expected. I climb up into the section between the ropes and the ceiling, and look down. Wow; I can see everything from up here. I spot the careers sword fighting. The alliance of three girls is at the fire starting station. The boys from Five and Ten are building shelters. District Nine is using sickles. This is amazing. I can spy on the tributes without then knowing. I can discover which tributes to watch out for, and learn their preferred weapons.

"How's the weather up there?" Lynette's voice knocks me back into reality.

"You have to come see this," I say. Lynette pulls herself up into the gap between the ropes and the ceiling. "Look, you can see everything," I say.

"Wow," she whispers in awe. "We'll learn who all the strong tributes are from up here."

"Yes," I reply. "This is awesome."

Over the next hour or so, Lynette and I look out for possible threats. The careers look as strong as ever, but the boys from Districts One and Four don't look too smart. District Nine looks very strong and smart, so we'll have to stay away from them. The alliance of three girls looks strong, and the alliance of two boys does as well. Besides that, the other tributes don't look too fit. However, the girl from District Eleven has this certain gleam in her eye that makes her look smart.

In an hour, we're called to lunch. Lynette and I scurry down quickly from the ropes. We don't want anyone to know we were spying on them. I think we've gathered enough data to decide who the threats will be, so there's really no point in going back, when we could be working on survival skills. But maybe, I'll find my way back up them just one last time before I die.

**Savannah Troy (D10 F 12)**

As I look around the lunch room, I discover that there are a few more alliances than yesterday. The boys from District Five and Ten are sitting with each other, and the girls from Five and Eight. Now, there's five alliances, which leaves nine tributes left to fend for themselves.

Personally, I'm kind of glad to be one of those nine. Allies are trouble, although I don't think I could get one if I tried. After all, who wants to ally with a twelve-year-old from District Ten; even if she is 5'5? Well, these tributes will soon learn that I am a force to be reckoned with. I can actually throw knives pretty well; a skill I plan to use in the Games.

I discovered my knife throwing skill yesterday, when I was wandering around, looking for weapons to try out. I decided to give throwing knives a try, since they can comply with my relatively skinny arms. It turned out I was a natural! I stayed at the station long enough to perfect my skill, but I left before other tributes (particularly the careers) could discover my talent. The only helpful thing my mentor has told me so far, was to not show off at training, which I am planning to do. The careers won't know what hit them, when I pop out at them; throwing knives in my hands.

Even though I have been trying out some weapons, I have mostly focused on survival skills. I have learned how to start a fire, build a shelter, tie some knots, and even recognize poisonous plants and berries. I plan to hit some mire survival skills stations this afternoon and tomorrow morning. After all, the victor always knows plenty about survival skills and weaponry. So, this is what I'll strive for during the remainder of training.

**Troy Ross (D6 M 15)**

Finally, lunch ends, and the doors to the training room open. I really need to work on spear throwing. Out of the many weapons I tried, spears worked best for me. I'm not a spear-throwing prodigy, but I'm better than the average tribute, minus the careers.

I walk over to the station, grab a spear, and stand behind the line in front of the target. I launch it, and it hits the dummy's stomach. I retrieve it, and throw it again. It hits the dummy's left arm. The third time, I finally get the dummy in the head. The fourth shot hits it in the arm again, and the fifth hits it in the chest. I continue to throw spears for about half an hour, but my arm soon gets tired. I decide to go to a survival skills station next.

I decide to head over to the poisonous plants and berries station. This seems like one of the most helpful stations. The trainer gives me a twenty minute speech; letting me know which berries are edible and poisonous. After that, he gives me thirty berries to sort into two piles; edible and inedible. I get twenty-six out of the thirty berries into the correct piles, which the trainer says is really good. After he instructs me for a little while more, I head to the rock climbing wall.

The rock climbing wall has a list of fastest climbing times on a blackboard right next to it. The top eight scores are dominated by the careers and District Nine. The other two times belong to the girl from District Eleven and the boy from District Ten. I think I can beat some of those lower times.

The trainer tweets on his whistle, and I start climbing up the wall. Every so often, panels move in and out of the wall, so I find myself slipping, and nearly falling, from the wall. I realize that this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. Finally, with sweat pouring down my neck and my arms burning, I pull myself over the top ledge. The trainer yells up my time, and I compare it with the times on the score board. I get ninth place! I knock the boy from District Ten off the board, and watch my name appear below the careers and District Nine, and above the girl from District Eleven. I'm pretty satisfied with my score. It's not too bad, for a non-career.

**Jonas Cooke (D8 M 16)**

I put down the spear and sigh. I'll put that on the list of weapons I can't use. So far I've tried spears, throwing knives, axes, blow guns, slingshot, and tridents, and none of them have worked. I look around the room for another weapon to try, and decide on swords.

I walk over to the sword fighting trainer, and he gives me a tutorial on basic sword fighting. He then hands me a sword to fight him with. I start out on the defense; deflecting all of his swipes pretty well. When I'm comfortable, I start attacking a little bit more. He stops most of my swipes, but he's a professional sword fighter, so I'm fine with that. I do manage to get him in the arm once. In about ten minutes, I'm dripping with sweat, so the trainer tells me to take a short break as he gives me a few tips. When I'm ready to go, I grab my sword, and start jabbing and blocking again. We fight in intervals of ten minutes for about an hour more. By the end of my session, I've become really good, according to my trainer.

I'm glad, because now I've got something to show to the Gamemakers at the private training sessions tomorrow. Prior to now, I planned to just show the Gamemakers some of my survival skills. So far, I've learned how to build a fire, build a shelter, tie some knots, and identify poisonous plants and berries. Speaking of survival skills, I think it's best if I try some more survival skills stations. If I can't get my hands on a sword, that's what I'll have to rely on during the Games. I decide to try out the camouflage station next.

I walk on over, and listen to the trainer, who's already instructing the pair from District Nine. The pair of them look even stronger in person. They'll make it far in the Hunger Games. As the trainer explains all about different types of camouflage, I try my best to soak up all the information. I've never been good at painting or anything artistic, so I need to listen well. After all, this could determine my life or death.

**Alfred Jarrod (D3 M 15)**

I have absolutely no chance of winning the Games. No one from District Three ever wins. We've had a total of three victors in the past 125 years. Only one is still alive. Being smothered between the career districts doesn't work for our benefit. Everyone just skips over us, as if we didn't exist. At the chariot rides there was a distinct lull in the applause when District Three rolled by. The applause picked up again when District Four appeared.

At least I have a better chance at winning than Jillian does, my district partner. She's an orphan whose parents died in a factory explosion. She's also very timid, skittish, unfriendly, and unsocial, so none of her relatives wanted her. Since she grew up in the community home, she doesn't have very good manners, but that's just because no one taught them to her. Our escort has had many fits, trying to teach her manners. Jillian nearly fainted at the sight of all these weapons in the training room. All she has been doing since yesterday is hide. She hides in the bathrooms, behind stations, under tables, and wherever she can fit. I don't think any of the tributes, but me, know that she hides. She never shows up at lunch either.

I wonder what Jillian will do at training. Maybe she'll just stand there and refuse to do anything. Maybe she'll crawl under a table and wait to be dismissed. She'll probably get a one or a two; unless, of course, she's faking her weakness. I doubt it, though. She's doomed; probably the first to die in the bloodbath.

So, thinking of all of this, I realize that I have a slight chance that I won't get last place. I predict I'll get something from the two to four range, unless I discover some amazing skill tomorrow morning. I'm also hoping to get past the bloodbath. If I run in the opposite direction before the other tributes can get their hands on me, I might have a chance to stay alive for the first day. However, I know the temptation of the cornucopia is hard to pass off, so I may go for something small before I scamper off.

I put down the piece of rope as the buzzer rings, signaling the end of training. I see Jillian climb out from behind the poisonous berry station, and we head up to the third floor together. "How'd training go?" I ask her, hoping for her to come out of her shell a little bit and talk. She just shrugs. I suddenly realize I've never heard her talk. She answers everyone's questions with a gesture, nod, or shake of the head. I wonder why she won't talk. Nobody's that shy, are they?

**Thanks for all the reviews! :-) Next chapter will be the morning of the third day of training. The afternoon of that day consists of the private training sessions, which will be a separate chapter or two. :-)**


	7. Chapter 7: Training: Day Three

**Training: Day Three**

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

I walk down to the training room; against my will of course. I notice I'm the last one to show up. It's not like I care. I walk over to my hiding spot behind the berry identification station and sit down. "Welcome to day three of hiding," I think to myself.

You're probably wondering while I'm hiding so much. Truthfully, I'm pretty shy, but not as shy as people think. Yes, I do hide, but that's just to avoid talking to people. The truth is, I can't talk, not even if I wanted to, because I don't have a tongue.

Two years ago, at the community home, I walked into a room where one of the community home ladies was beating a child who had stolen the lady's expensive jewelry. When the lady saw me, she grabbed me by the collar of the shirt, and threatened to kill me so I wouldn't tell anyone what happened. However, she resolved to cutting out my tongue. I didn't have any good friends, and I was shy to begin with, so no one noticed a thing. The lady made it very clear that if I managed to let anyone what had happened, she'd cut my throat next. However, I'm out of her clutches now, and I have a plan for the interviews; a plan that will prevent that lady from abusing children ever again.

My thoughts are interrupted when I accidentally elbow a metal box to the ground. It makes a loud clang, and attracts the attention of the careers who are walking by. The boy from District One spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. "Well, well, well; what do we have here?"

I try to run out from behind the table, but the boy blocks me. I try to run the other way, but the boy from District One blocks that exit. "You're trapped, weakling," he says.

"So what's your name?" the District One boy asks. Obviously, I can't reply, so I just glare at the boy. "Perhaps your name's 'weakling'," he teases. "It suits you."

At that moment, I decide I've had enough. I knock down the table, hurdle over it, and dash toward the bathroom. Tears roll down my face as I hear the careers snickering behind me. I run to the sink and pour some cold water on my tear-streaked face. "Maybe I should just drown myself now," I think. "It would be quicker."

"No," I think to myself. "They'll just pick another kid from District Three to get killed in the Games. Besides, I still haven't gone through with my plan during the interviews."

I forgot about my plan to reveal the community home lady in front of all of Panem. I have to, to make sure she doesn't abuse other orphans, like me. I wipe away the tears. I guess I'll just wait in here untill lunch. After all, I still have to decide what I'm going to do at the private sessions. Obviously, I'm not actually going to try to get myself a good score, but there's plenty of things I can do to make the Gamemakers look stupid...

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

I'm very nervous for the training sessions this afternoon. By the time the Gamemakers get to District Eleven, they'll be drunk and preoccupied with the food. It doesn't exactly help that I'm short for my age. I'm only 5'6, and I'm sixteen. Yep, if I want sponsors, I'll have to succeed at impressing them at the interviews, because my score will probably be in the three to six range.

I haven't discovered any great weapon skills during training so far. I'm alright with axes, throwing knives, and slingshots, but I'm not brilliant with any of them. I've done pretty excellent with survival skills. That doesn't surprise me. I have always had a huge brain capacity, which has made people think I'm from District Three. My too-big glasses and small, skinny body has also caused people to confuse me with District Three. However, I'm from District Eleven; agriculture. I love it there, and I'm very sad I'll won't see it again. I'll never forget the fruity scent that always lingered in the air, or the colorful, juicy berry plants.

Speaking of berries, the trainer told me yesterday that I was the most advanced berry identifier he'd ever seen. Once I aced the basic berry test, he showed me berries that could turn up in the desert, tropics, arctic tundra, rainforest, or even underwater. So, I guess I'll have to use that as my skill at the private training sessions. The trainers won't be overly impressed, but I can probably manage to get myself a mediocre score.

I look at the gigantic clock above the Gamemakers' overlook. There's about one hour left until lunch. That's a perfect amount of time to swing back by the poisonous berry station and review all the berries one last time. I head for the station, focusing on nothing but the berries.

**Jorge Mosley (D7 M 15)**

I reach the top of the climbing course, and look at my time; four minutes and fifty-four seconds. That's over two minutes more than anyone on the high score list. Taking a deep breath, I climb back down. I wipe off the sweat, and climb up again; this time with a better result. Four minutes and nine seconds isn't a brilliant time, but I'm sure it's better than most.

I look at the clock and realize there's less than an hour left in training. I rack my brains; what haven't I done yet? The answer comes quickly. I haven't stopped by the fire-making station yet. Fire-making is very important in the Games. It could be your only source of heat. Countless tributes have died from the cold. Yes, fire-making is definitely the way to go.

I walk on over to the station, and say hello to the trainer. She looks pretty bored; not many tributes are interested in fire-making. However, her face lights up when she realizes that I'm here to learn. She starts me off simple, with a box of matches. Although it's unlikely that I'd be able to get my hands on these, it is crucial to know how, just in case. Eventually I progress to some flint, and soon, just two sticks. It takes me a while to get that fire started, but once I do, there's no stopping the flames. The trainer congratulates me on my great work, and tells me that I'm a natural. Well, at least I have some sort of skill now.

Throughout the hour, the trainer gives me random, various objects to start my fires. Some of them work, but others seem impossible. (For example, how am I supposed to light a fire with a shoe?) Anyways, I just hope I spent my final training hour well. I'll need all the help I can get in the Hunger Games.

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

My allies are idiots. It's not like I expected anything more. Nearly all careers are idiots; except for the ones who win, of course. I'm actually surprised they all had the brain capacity to say 'I volunteer' at the reapings. They're all so stupid; especially the guys. These Games will be easier than I thought.

When we arrived at training two days ago, I have to admit, I was a bit intimidated. The other careers looked pretty muscular, at first glance. I was even kind of scared of Lexiana, who is four inches taller than me. I'm used to towering over every girl, so her height hit me like a slap in the face. However, I eventually learned that she wasn't as strong as the average career, and the other four aren't either.

On the first day, I quickly learned that I was the only one who could throw a knife to save my life (which could be taken literally). Smoky was best at spears. Lexiana excelled with swords, which will work to her benefit since she can outreach any other tribute. Mars favored a machete, while Seabrook chose a bow and arrow. Hull was best with a trident, which only makes sense since he comes from District Four. Hull doesn't seem to posses any other talents, which makes me wonder what he'll do if there isn't a trident in the cornucopia.

I look at the clock. My heart skips a beat when I realize that's training's almost over. I'm very excited for the private training sessions, this afternoon. I can't wait to see what I'll get. My guess is I'll get at least a ten. Smoky, Mars, and Lexiana will probably get nines or tens. Seabrook will probably get an eight or a nine, and Hull will probably get a seven or eight.

District Nine will probably get eights or nines. Yesterday, we approached them to see if they wanted to be allies. After all, my mentor told me that the girl's father is a past victor. However, they declined our invitation, saying that the careers are 'sick' and 'cruel'. Well, I guess we'll just have to kick their butts in the arena.

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of training. We walk into the lunchroom and chow down on our food. You can tell everyone is tense and nervous. Some tributes look like they'd fall to the ground if I simply breathed on them. After half an hour, our plates are cleared, and we wait for the Gamemakers to start the private training sessions. Finally, a robotic voice calls out, "Gemma Hound." I smirk at the tributes as I walk past them and into the training room. This will be interesting.

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been very busy with sports and stuff. I'll try to update at least twice a week. I've also created a poll, so that I can learn your favorite tributes. PLEASE VOTE! :-) Well, the private training sessions are next! :-)**


	8. Chapter 8: Training Sessions (Part One)

**Just a quick author's note: The last paragraph of each character's pov is when they see their score on television. I hate when authors make the scores on a separate page, because no one wants to flip back to remember what everyone did. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the first half of the private training sessions! :-) **

**Private Training Sessions (Part One)**

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

I walk into the training room, and nearly sprint towards the throwing knives. "Calm down," I tell myself. After all, I have fifteen minutes to impress the Gamemakers, and I doubt I'll use all that time. So instead of sprinting, I fast-walk towards the knife-throwing section, grab a handful of knives, and stand behind the line, as I devise a plan that will definitely get the Gamemakers' attention.

As I hold up my first knive, I can see the Gamemakers watching intently, out of the corner of my eye. I fling the knife at the human-shaped target, hitting it in the right eye. My next one hits its left eye. My third one hits it square on the nose. The next three form a semi-circle under the nose, in the shape of a smile. Finally, I throw one more at the dummy's chest, hitting it dead-center on the x that marks the heart. I look up at the Gamemakers, who look beyond amazed. This will be a tough act to follow. When they dismiss me, I nearly skip back to my room, excited for when I'll see my score.

Hours later, I sit on the couch with Smoky, our escort, our mentors, and our stylists. I'm hoping I scored a ten. Finally, the program flashes onto the screen. Tristan Honeybee, who interviews the tributes each year, gives an introduction, as I wait anxiously for my score. Doesn't he know that no one cares about the intro; that everyone is only interested in the scores? Anyways, after a few minutes, I see my picture flash onto the screen. "Gemma Hound," Tristan starts, "with a score of eleven." Yes! Everyone in the room jumps up and down excitedly (except for Smoky). Our escort's wig falls off, in all of the commotion. I would of laughed if I hadn't been so busy celebrating. I can't believe I got an eleven! They're exceptionally rare; never more than one or two per year. I guess the Gamemakers we're impressed. Well, my fellow careers will have to thank me for all the sponsors I've raked in.

**Smoky Wills (D1 M 18)**

"Smoky Wills." I stand up and walk towards the training room door. As I step in the room, I can tell Gemma did something that surprised them. The Gamemakers are whispering excitedly and pointing towards the knife throwing section. She probably showed them her knife throwing skill. Well, I'll give the Gamemakers something that will really make them whisper.

I head over to the rack of spears, and choose the one that I'm most accurate with. I stand behind the line, and face the target. I release the spear, and it fires towards the dummy's chest, hitting it in the center of the head. I jog over to the target, retrieve it, and throw it again. This time it hits the dummy's chest; right on the x that marks the kill spot. For the next ten minutes or so, I throw my spears at the target. All of them hit either the chest or the head of the dummy. When my arm starts to become tired, I turn to the Gamemakers, and flash them a confident smile. "Very well, you may go," one of them says.

I stare at the television in shock. How the heck did Gemma get an eleven? All she did was throw some lousy knives at the target. If that really gets the Gamemakers' attention, my score will be an easy eleven. Finally, my face appears on the screen. "Smoky Wills with a score of nine." What?! What?! How did I only get a nine?! I chuck the closest thing I can grab (a lamp) at the television; shattering the screen into a million pieces.

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

"Lexiana Porter." I walk into the training room, hoping the careers will be impressed with my sword fighting skills. Although I often despise my height, it helps me out during sword fighting. I have a longer reach than any other tribute, which will give me a huge advantage when I have to sword fight in the Games. Yes, my height will help me in the arena.

I immediately head to the sword fighting station. At the station, there's a bunch of dummies programmed to fight tributes during training. I turn it on, and set it to level nine. There's ten total levels, in order of difficulty. I've mastered level eight, but level ten is a bit over my head. Level nine will still be a challenge, though. I stand back, sword in my hand, as the dummy buzzes to life. Pretty soon, I'm jabbing, swiping, dodging, slashing, and shouting. At least once, the dummy catches me off guard and nearly gets its sword to my neck, but I deflect the strikes with my quick wrist flicks. Finally, I'm able to knock the dummy's sword out of its hand. I run my sword through its stomach, and the dummy falls to the ground. I turn to look at the Gamemakers. Looking very impressed, they dismiss me.

I'm very impressed that Gemma got an eleven. Good for her. I bet she threw some knives. Smoky, on the other hand, scored a less impressive nine. It's still a good score, but it's low, for career standards. I bet he's angry. Finally, I see a picture of my face appear on the television screen. "Lexiana Porter with a score of ten." Wow! A ten isn't bad at all!

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

"Mars Poole." I stand up and walk towards the training room door. I step in the door, and immediately head to the rack of knives. After running my hand over the row of machetes, I choose the sharpest one. I drag three dummies into the center of the room, stand them up, and begin my work.

I start with the first dummy. I slice off both of his arms, and then behead him. I run the machete through its chest, and then kick it to the ground. I move on to the second dummy. I behead this one, and then run the machete through his chest and stomach area multiple times. I cut off its legs, and it falls to the ground. I abandon my machete for the third dummy. I tackle it to the ground, and start punching it as hard as I can. When I'm done pulverizing it, its head has been nearly snapped off, and its chest has multiple fist marks on it. I turn to the Gamemakers, and they dismiss me. I hope I scored at least a ten.

I can't believe Gemma got an eleven. That's an excellent score. Smoky's nine isn't quite as impressive, though. He probably just messed up. I know he can do better than a nine. Lexiana got a ten, which made our escort, mentors, and stylists cheer. At last, my face appears on the screen. "Smoky Wills with a score of ten." Well, a ten's okay. An eleven would have been better, but I'm pretty happy with a ten.

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

"Jillian Perry." I walk over to the training room door, and head inside. Throughout the morning, I've decided what I'm going to do. I step inside the training room. Most of the Gamemakers aren't paying attention to me. After all, District Three is sort of the 'intermission' between the career districts. The Gamemakers wouldn't pay attention to me even if I was going to do something interesting.

I walk over to the berry identification station and climb behind the table, into my hiding spot. The Gamemakers haven't even noticed I've walked in. In about two minutes, they realize they haven't seen me walk in. "Where is she?" one of the Gamemakers asks.

"She's probably just being difficult," another replies. "I'll go find her." The Gamemaker walks through the door to the lunch room. In thirty seconds, he walks back out. "The tributes say she already walked in," the Gamemaker says.

"Well where is she, then?" the other Gamemaker says. I think he's the Head Gamemaker.

"Maybe this is part of her plan. She'll appear in a few minutes. Let's just sit and wait."

"Alright," the Head Gamemaker says. "She has ten minutes to appear, or we're moving on to the next tribute.

I sit in my spot, motionless, as the Gamemakers chow down on food. It doesn't seem like they care that I'm not there. Ten minutes later, the Gamemakers decide that I'm not going to show up. "Okay, let's call the next one in," the Head Gamemaker says. That's when I climb out from my hiding spot, take a bow, and walk out the door.

The scores so far have been very high. Well, since they're careers, I didn't expect anything less. My picture eventually appears on the television screen. "Jillian Perry, with a score of seven." How the heck did I get a seven? I guess the Gamemakers liked my little hiding scheme. If I actually cared about winning the Games, I would commend myself for a great score.

**Alfred Jarrod (D3 M 15)**

"Alfred Jarrod." I walk into the training room. The Gamemakers are whispering excitedly. That can't be good for Jillian. There's no way she'll score over a two. Judging by the Gamemakers' whispers, she probably scored less than a two.

Anyways, now it's time to focus on what I'm going to do. Since I'm no good with weapons, I head instantly to the knot tying station. I tie some knots for about five minutes, and then head to the shelter building station. I construct a small, but durable shelter out of tree branches. The Gamemakers dismiss me, making me wonder how badly I did.

The scores so far have been very high. Even Jillian got a seven. How the heck did she do that? As far as I know, she has no major talents. Finally, my face flashes onto the screen. "Alfred Jarrod with a score of four." Well, I didn't expect anything more.

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

"Seabrook Gloss." I say goodbye to Hull, and head into the training room, where the Gamemakers are awaiting my arrival. I walk straight to the rack of bow and arrows. I grab one of each, and get to work.

I pull back on the string, and set my gaze on the dummy's chest. I release the arrow, and it flies exactly where I wanted it to; right on the center of the x. I release another arrow. This one hits the center of the x on the dummy's head. I move on to another dummy, and hit it in the exact same places. Th same happens with the third. The Gamemakers dismiss me, looking mildly impressed. I hope I've earned a satisfactory score.

I'm impressed by the scores so far, with the exception of the boy from District Three. I hope I scored at least a nine. My face appears on the television, and Tristan Honeybee announces my score. "Seabrook Gloss, with a score of ten." Wow, a ten! That's better than I expected!

**Hull Weast (D4 M 17)**

"Hull Weast." Finally! I hate being the last career in the lunch room. There's no one to talk to but the weaklings from the other districts, so I'm forced to sit by myself in silence. Anyways, as I walk into the training room, the Gamemakers stare at me intently. Since I'm the the last exciting tribute they get, they'll want to watch carefully.

I grab a trident, and use all my strength to launch it at the target. It imbeds itself in the dummy's stomach. I run over to the dummy, yank the trident out, and toss it again. Once again, it hits the dummy in the stomach. I continue to throw the trident for about ten more minutes, until the Gamemakers dismiss me.

With the exception of Smoky, the career scores have been pretty high this year. I can't believe Smoky only got a nine. I guess he's just not as strong as the rest of us. At last, my name is announced. "Hull Weast with a score of nine." Nine?! How did I only get a nine?! That's ridiculous! I deserved a ten or more!

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

"Noel Jackson." I walk into the training room, pretty confident of what I'm going to do. I plan to climb up on the ropes course, and swing around a bit. It won't get me an excellent score, but I'll avoid a low one.

I head over to the ropes course, and hoist myself up. I swing along the ropes, using my upper body strength to stay up on the ropes. After about ten minutes, my arms begin to get tired, and my sweating hands start to slip. I jump down, look at the Gamemakers, and leave when they dismiss me.

The career scores have been so high, that I'm even more scared for the Games. There's no way I'll get anything close to their scores. My face finally appears on the screen. "Noel Jackson, with a score of five." Well, five is the average score for non-careers, so I'm fine with my score.

**Geoffrey Williams (D5 M 16)**

"Geoffrey Williams." I walk into the training room, my hands sweating like crazy. My whole body shakes from nervousness. I tell myself to calm down multiple times, but it doesn't work. Not wanting to waste any of my valuable fifteen minutes, I immediately head towards the rack of spears.

Grabbing my first spear, I stand behind the line drawn on the floor. I throw it at the dummy-target, and it hits the stomach. I retrieve it and throw it again, hitting the chest. My third throw hits the chest again, and my fourth shot hits the head. For the remainder of my time, I continue chucking spears at the target. Every spear hits either the stomach, chest, or head of the dummy. Once my time is up, the Gamemakers dismiss me.

I'm very surprised that Noel scored a five. I didn't know she was talented enough. I just hope I match or beat her score. As my palms sweat again, Tristan Honeybee announces my name. "Geoffrey Williams, with a score of six." I breath a sigh of relief. A six isn't too bad.

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

"Kat Stanley." I sweep my blonde hair out of my face, and walk towards the training room door. I step inside, and see all the Gamemakers watching me. Great; that'll make me more nervous and more prone to mess up.

I nearly run over to the rack of bows and arrows. Judging by the angle of them, they've already been used; probably by the girl from District Four. The careers have been bragging non-stop about their weapons skills, during training. That helps me out, because I now know who I'll have to steal a bow from.

I grab a bow and an arrow, and stand behind the shooting line. My concentration high, I pull back on the string, and release, hitting the dummy's chest. I grab another arrow, notch it on the bow, and shoot again. This time, I hit the dummy's head. My third shot hits the chest. The fourth and fifth shots hit the head. The Gamemakers dismiss me, making me wonder if I did well enough to get a mediocre score.

Sitting on the soft, velvet couch, I wonder what score I got. I'm hoping to attract my sponsors for my alliance. At last, I hear, "Kat Stanley, with a score of six." Wow, a six is excellent! I just hope it's enough.

**Troy Ross (D6 M 15)**

"Troy Ross." I head inside the training room, and look up at the Gamemakers. Even though the sessions are almost halfway over, most of the Gamemakers' attention seems to be on me. I suppose that's a good omen.

For the first half of my session, I throw spears. I've become pretty good in the past few days; hitting the dummy ninety percent of the time. Next, I test my skills on the climbing wall. I race up the wall as fast as I can, dodging the moving panels. When I reach the top, I'm almost certain that I've smashed my previous record by over a minute. My spirits high, I climb down, and walk out the door once I'm dismissed.

I have to say, I'm pretty impressed by Kat's six. I'm almost sorry I didn't ally with her. However, it's time to focus on my score now. "Troy Ross, with a score of seven." Wow! A seven's excellent! The careers will have to look out for me in the Games.

**Don't forget to vote for your favorite tribute(s) in the poll! I haven't had any voters yet. Please vote to save your favorite character(s) from the wrath of the bloodbath! :-/ The second part of the private training sessions will come next. Thanks for all of the reviews! :-) **


	9. Chapter 9: Training Sessions (Part Two)

**Private Training Sessions (Part Two)**

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

"Ciera Dawson." I walk into the training room, trying to hide the fact that I'm sweating and trembling all over. As I step through the doorway, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. When I tell myself that I'm ready, I grab a slingshot, and look around for some ammo. The great thing about slingshots is you can use a whole variety of objects as ammunition. That will help during the Games, since I'll have plenty of rocks, acorns, or nuts in the arena to shoot at attacking tributes or animals.

I find a few small rocks at the shelter building station, and place them in my pocket. I walk over to the shooting range and stand behind the line. Placing the first rock in the sling, I pull it back, and release it. The rock hits somewhere between the stomach and the chest, and thuds to the ground. I load my second rock on the slingshot. This time, the rock hits the target's head. My third rock hits the dummy's left arm, which is a slight setback, but I counteract it by hitting it directly in the heart with my fourth rock. The fifth rock hits the chest. Since I still have some time left, I decide to showcase my second skill; axe throwing. I grab an axe, and take a few steps back. I run up to the line and release the axe. It sails towards the dummy and hits it in the chest. In fact, it hits it so hard, the dummy falls to the ground. I guess the Gamemakers decide they've seen enough, because they dismiss me.

I drum my fingers on the arm of the couch, impatiently awaiting my score. Kat has gotten a six which will help out our alliance a lot. I just hope I can match her score. Finally, I see a picture of my face on the screen. "Ciera Dawson, with a score of seven." Excellent! A seven will certainly get me some sponsors.

**Jorge Mosley (D7 M 15)**

"Jorge Mosley." I walk into the training room, sweating from head to toe. This training session may determine my life or death. If I get a good score, I'll get sponsors. If I have sponsors, they'll be able to send me that water when I'm dehydrated. They'll be able to send me a blanket when I'm freezing in the cold. They'll be able to send me food when there's absolutely nothing in my stomach. So, I need to get a high score to obtain those sponsors.

I walk over to the fire-building station and start igniting a fire with a piece of flint. I progress to two sticks, and some other unusual objects. I hope I'm making a good enough impression on the Gamemakers. Since I still have about five minutes left, I decide to scale the climbing wall. I make it to the top in about thirty seconds less than my previous time. I climb down, and the Gamemakers dismiss me.

The scores have been pretty high so far. I'm hoping to continue that trend, though I don't expect anything over seven. Eventually, my name and score are announced. "Jorge Mosley, with a score of five." Crap! I'm not going to get any sponsors with a five.

**Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)**

"Lynette Shultz." I tremble as I walk towards the door to the training room. I need to do well in these sessions; for myself and for Noel. I'm kind of winging my training session because I don't have any astounding talents, but I'll see how it goes. Maybe I'll get lucky.

I walk inside, over to the ropes course. Noel and I spent tons of time dangling from here, and I can tell I've gained some arm strength. I climb up and swing around a little bit. My arms burn from the past three days, but I keep going. I'll have two whole days to rest; tomorrow and the day of the interviews. In a few minutes, though, my arms get too sore to continue, so I jump to the ground. Now where should I go? I decide on the berry station. Noel and I spent a lot of time here as well. I quickly sort all thirty berries into edible and inedible columns. When I'm done, I turn to the Gamemakers, and they dismiss me.

I hope I did well enough for a mediocre score. Although I don't expect anything more than a five or a six, I know I'll get over a two or a three. Noel got a five, so I hope to match her score. "Lynette Shultz, with a score of five." Well, a five is about what I expected. I'm not too disappointed.

**Jonas Cooke (D8 M 16)**

"Jonas Cooke." As I step through the door to the training room, I can tell the Gamemakers are already starting to loose interest in the tributes. Only about half of them are looking at me. Though, I expect it's worse for District Eleven and District Twelve.

I walk over to the sword rack, and grab the one that felt the most balanced in my hand during training. I grab one of the sword-fighting dummies and set it to level five. I've seen some of the careers work at levels as high as eight, but I'm not quite ready for that yet. I turn on the dummy, and stand in attacking position. The dummy attacks first, lunging at my stomach. Now the dummies' swords aren't sharp enough to kill, or seriously injure, but they will leave a nice bruise. I block the dummy's lunge, and counteract it with one of my own. He easily blocks it. For the next ten minutes or so, we continue like this; jabbing and blocking each other's swipes. I manage to get him in the left arm, but It's far from a fatal shot. At last, I bury my sword in the dummy's chest. He falls to the ground, and I claim my victory.

I try to calm my nerves as I sit on the fancy chair; waiting for my score to be announced. I'm hoping for something over a six. At last, my face appears on the screen. "Jonas Cooke, with a score of six." A six is on the lower end of what I expected, but it might get me some sponsors; as long as I impress them at the interviews.

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

"Carmen Sylvester." I walk into the training room, trying to look confident. The truth is, I'm super nervous, but I want to try to look composed for the Gamemakers. Since I have had previous training, I think I can really impress these Gamemakers.

I nearly jog over to the spear rack and pick up my favorite spear. I take a step back, and launch it at the target. It hits the dummy right on the x on it's chest. I retrieve it and throw it again. It hits the x on the head next. For the remainder of the session, I alternate; hitting the chest and then hitting the head. I miss the x only two times, but they're both close shots. When the Gamemakers tell me my time is up, it takes me by surprise. I was focusing so hard on my spear that I lost track of time. I put the spear back on the rack and walk out of the room.

As I sit on the couch on the ninth floor, I hope my score will be in the 'career range.' That will get Roland and I sponsors, and we need those, coming from District Nine. At last, I see my picture on the screen. "Carmen Sylvester, with a score of ten." Wow! A ten will definitely get me sponsors!

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

"Roland Fringe." I head into the training room, ready to show the Gamemakers what I can do. I'm sure Carmen impressed them, so I want to do the same. If we both score above about seven, we'll have boatloads of sponsors begging our mentors to take their money.

I immediately grab a sickle. I've had plenty of experience with these in District Eleven's grain fields, and they're used as weapons by many tributes; primarily Districts Nine and Eleven. A sickle is a weapon with a curved blade connected to a handle. They're used to harvest grain in District Nine, and are usually among the weapons in the cornucopia.

I grab one a dummy and drag it out to the center of the training room. I get straight to work; slashing it in kill spots and reducing it to a pile of ripped fabric. I drag out another dummy, and mutilate this one as well. Two dummies later, the Gamemakers dismiss me.

I can't believe that Carmen got a ten. She looks very excited about it. This will be great for our alliance. I just hope I got a good score as well. Cameron's face disappears on the television screen, and mine takes her place. "Roland Fringe with a score of eight." Yes! It isn't a ten like Carmen's, but coming from no previous training, an eight is brilliant.

**Savannah Troy (D10 F 12)**

"Savannah Troy." I hop out of my seat. During my session, I'm hoping to prove to the Gamemakers that twelve-year-old girls shouldn't be overlooked. No one under fourteen has ever won the Games, but there's a first time for everything.

As I walk into the training room, my eyes immediately lock on the rack of throwing knives. I haven't touched them since day one because I didn't want anyone else to know I can throw them decently. I grab a knife and line up behind the target. I take aim and fire. The knife hits the x on the chest of the target. It isn't a direct shot, but it's a good one, nevertheless. I shoot another at the target, this time, hitting the center of the x. I glance up at the Gamemakers. Half of them look mildly impressed, as the other half chow down on food. I throw another knife, and it hits the dummy's head, about an inch over the x. My fourth shot misses the x on the chest by a hair. My fifth shot hits the direct center of the x on the head. The target is staring to get cluttered, so I retrieve the five knives and throw them again. My third one is the only direct hit, but the others miss by two inches or less. I look at the Gamemakers, and they tell me I'm dismissed.

I'm very excited to see my score. I'm hoping for it to be above average, so that I can obtain some sponsors. Finally, my score is announced. "Savannah Troy, with a score of six." A six? Darn it. I was hoping for at least a seven.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

"Levi Dwight." I head over to the training room door, and walk inside the training room. The Gamemakers should be impressed by my skills. I plan to showcase my two best weapons: axes and throwing knives. They'll be impressed that I'm good with two weapons rather than just one.

I decide to go with throwing knives first. I grab a few, stand behind the line, and chuck them all at the target. None of them miss, but they aren't all kill shots. Next, I grab an axe, and throw it at the target about seven or eight times. Once again, they all hit the target, but a few aren't kill shots. I look up at the Gamemakers, and realize that only a few of them are paying attention. Those idiots! One of the Gamemakers that is paying attention to me dismisses me, leaving me wondering if I impressed some of them.

I sit on the couch, nervous to see my score. It might be just me, but the scores seem unnaturally high this year. I hope that won't hurt my odds in the Games. My ally, Geoffrey, only got a six. I expected more from him. Finally, my face replaces Savannah's on the screen. "Levi Dwight, with a score of six." What?! I deserved a eight or more.

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

"Piper Hagen." As I walk into the training room, I can feel the three remaining tributes' eyes on the back of my head. As I walk into the room, I can tell the Gamemakers aren't particularly interested in me. I clear my throat to alert them of my presence. It works a little bit, but a third of the Gamemakers are still focused only on the food.

I put the Gamemakers out of my mind as I grab a blow gun and load it with a few darts. The past few training days have made me realize something: I need to have a weapon, just in case. Although I'm not too keen on killing people, if it's necessary, I might consider it. I turned out to be okay with a blow gun. Since it requires no upper body strength, it's really the weapon for me.

I step behind the line and take aim. I take a deep breath, and give a sharp blow. The dart sails towards the target and hits the chest of the dummy. It isn't quite on the x, but it's a close enough shot. My second dart is a bit better, and hits the edge of the x. My third shot is the best; finally striking the center of the x. I look up to see if any of the Gamemakers caught my perfect shot. It turns out that only half of them are watching. Oh well. Maybe if I shoot a little bit more, they'll take notice. Over the next ten minutes, I keep shooting my blow gun, increasing in accuracy as my session continues. I glance up at the Gamemakers from time to time, and I can tell that more are watching as the session goes on. Hopefully that's a good sign. When my fifteen minutes is up, one of the Gamemakers dismisses me.

I doubt I'm going to get a good score. The Gamemakers were barely watching me, and my shooting was far from perfect. When I see my face appear on the screen, I cross my fingers. "Piper Hagen, with a score of seven." I let out a sigh of relief. I'm perfectly happy with a seven.

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

"Thurmond Richard." As I walk towards the door, I push my glasses up against my face. They keep sliding down from all my sweat. I walk into the room, feeling particularly unconfident. I know I have no chance of getting anything over a five.

I immediately head towards the edible berries station. I quickly sort out the thirty berries into edible and inedible columns. I check my score and find, to my dismay, that I mixed two up. Stupid nerves! Because of that mistake, I now know that the only way to impress the Gamemakers now is to show off some weaponry skill. Although I'm nowhere close to as good as the careers, maybe I'll get a lucky shot. I grab a throwing knife, and stand in front of the human-shaped target. As I release my knife, I aim for the chest. When my knife lands, however, it's nowhere close to the chest. The knife misses the target completely, landing about two inches away from the left knee. One of the Gamemakers decides he's seen enough, and sends me on my way.

I'm hopeless. After my berries mishap and my throwing knife fiasco, I doubt I'll get anything higher than a two. When my face flashes onto the screen, I prepare for the worst. "Thurmond Richard, with a score of three." I three was generous. I deserved a one or a two.

**Violet Copley (D12 F 16)**

"Violet Copley." Hooray. Time to make a fool of myself. I walk into the training room, pretty uncertain of what I'm going to do. I don't have any great talents. I guess I'll just have to wing it.

I walk over to the poisonous berry station. I was somewhat proficient at this station. I sort the thirty berries into the two categories: edible and inedible. When I check my score, I see that I got them all right. I look up at the Gamemakers to see if any were impressed by that. To my dismay, I discover only two Gamemakers are watching me. Darn it! What should I do now? I still have half of my session left. I decide to show them my shelter-building skills. I walk over to the station, and start assembling some wood together. However, I'm only three quarters of the way done when my time runs out. As I walk away from the training room, I wonder if I'll actually get a score above a one.

It takes forever for Tristan Honeybee to get to District Twelve. I hate being last. Well, technically Eli's last, but second to last is just as bad. After what seems like hours, Tristan gets to District Twelve. "Violet Copley, with a score of three." Stupid Gamemakers! They didn't pay attention to me at all! Good thing I have two skilled allies, or I'd be in trouble.

**Eli Phillis (D12 M 16)**

"Eli Phillis." Finally! I hate being last. I've heard stories that the Gamemakers don't pay attention to the last few tributes because they get bored. Hopefully, they're not true. I know I'm not going to get an excellent score, but if the Gamemakers don't even watch me, my score will be the lowest of them all.

As I walk in, I discover my suspicions are right. Absolutely none of the Gamemakers are watching me. I fight the urge to shout at them, and resolve to clearing my throat. It gets the attention of the few of them. "I'm starting." I say loudly. A few more heads turn my way. I hope they'll stay that way.

I grab a sword and get straight to work. Setting a dummy to level six, I step back and hear it buzz to life. I attack first, but the dummy easily dodges it. I thrust my sword again, but he's still too quick for me. I'll just have to catch him off guard. The dummy starts counter-attacking. I dodge his first two swipes, but the third one catches me in the knee. I ignore the slight pain, and fight back strongly. I manage to get the dummy in the arm, but it's obviously no killing swipe. The dummy gives me an injury to match his; right on the arm. Maybe setting it to level six wasn't such a grand idea. The dummy knocks me off of my feet, and advances towards me, his sword held high. As the dummy attacks, I thrust my sword upwards as a last attempt to kill him. I end up getting lucky; the sword hits the dummy right in the chest. He gives a short "bleep" and falls to the ground. Yes! The Gamemakers dismiss me, and I walk out the door wondering if I did well enough.

Hopefully, the Gamemakers will reward me with a good score. Although I got hurt twice, I did end up defeating the dummy; even if it was a lucky shot. "And last, but not least, Eli Phillis, with a score of five." Darn it! I think I deserved a better score than that.

**Scores:**

Gemma Hound: **11**

Smoky Wills: **9**

Lexiana Porter: **10**

Mars Poole: **10**

Jillian Perry: **7**

Alfred Jarrod: **4**

Seabrook Gloss: **10**

Hull Weast: **9**

Noel Jackson: **5**

Geoffrey Williams: **6**

Kat Stanley: **6**

Troy Ross: **7**

Ciera Dawson: **7**

Jorge Mosley:** 5**

Lynette Shultz: **5**

Jonas Cooke: **6**

Carmen Sylvester: **10**

Roland Fringe: **8**

Savannah Troy: **6**

Levi Dwight: **6**

Piper Hagen: **7**

Thurmond Richard: **3**

Violet Copley:** 3**

Eli Phillis:** 5**

**Since I still have no votes on my poll, I have decided that every tribute who gets two or more votes WILL survive the bloodbath. Any tribute who doesn't get any votes (with the exception of the careers) WILL PROBABLY die in the bloodbath. Please vote to save your favorite characters. You can vote for up to three tributes. :-)**


	10. Chapter 10: Interviews (Part One)

**Interviews (Part 1)**

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

I stand offstage; waiting for the interviews to begin. This is taking way too long! My red dress (to match my hair) is starting to itch and annoy me. It's a good thing I'm first, because I can take it off as soon as I'm gone. At last, I hear a Capitol camera man count down from five. Suddenly, the obnoxious, loud voice of Tristan Honeybee fills the room. "Welcome, everyone, to the interviews for the One Hundred Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games, the Fifth Quarter Quell! I'm your host, Tristan Honeybee, and today we're going to hear a little bit from all twenty-four tributes before they enter the arena, tomorrow! So, let's cut to the chase and welcome our first tribute, Gemma Hound!"

I walk onto the stage, and put a giant, fake smile on my face. I sit down in the chair as Tristan starts talking. "So Gemma, I love your dress. It matches your hair perfectly. Since we don't get a lot of redheads, especially from District One, could you tell us a little bit about where your red hair came from?"

"Well, Tristan, one of my grandmothers had red hair, so I guess I got it from her. None of my parents have red hair, so I guess it sort of skipped a generation."

"Interesting," he says. "Do you know anyone in District One, besides your grandmother, that has hair the same hue as yours?"

"No," I say. "Although one time, I did see this little boy with red hair near the justice building. But, I didn't want to scare him by saying something like, 'Woah! You have red hair like me!' so I just walked off." This comment makes the audience chuckle.

"Well, I think I'll ask something that all of us are probably wondering. How did you manage to get an eleven as a training score?"

"Oh, you know I can't say anything, Tristan," I say with a smile on my face. "You'll find out tomorrow."

"Bummer," Tristan says. "I'm sure we're all curious. Well, how about your favorite weapon; can you tell us about that?"

"Uhh, I'll give you a hint. It's two words long."

"A blow gun?"

"Nope," I say. The audience seems to be enjoying our little game.

"A spiked mace?"

"Nope."

"Throwing knives?"

At that moment the buzzer rings, signaling that my time is up. "Well, I guess we'll have to find out tomorrow," Tristan says with a sigh. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a round of applause for Gemma Hound!" I smile and wave as I walk off of the stage. That went better than I expected.

**Smoky Wills (D1 M 18)**

"Let's bring in our second District One tribute! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Smoky Wills!" I walk onstage to the cheers of the crowd, and sit in my chair with a scowl on my face. My mentor taught me that one of the best ways to look intimidating is to scowl. "Welcome, Smoky!" Tristan says, and I nod in response. "So let's get straight to the juicy stuff. Do you have any special strategies for the Games?"

"Not really," I say. "I'll just pulverize anyone who gets in between me and victory."

"Spoken like a true career," Tristan chuckles. "So do you think the twist of the Quarter Quell will diminish your chances of winning?"

"Nope," I say. "From what I've heard, zombies aren't very quick or agile. They shouldn't be too hard to beat."

"Interesting. Now, since we didn't figure out Gemma's, can you tell us your preferred weapon?"

"Sorry, Tristan," I say. "You'll find out tomorrow." At that moment the buzzer rings.

"Well, thanks for your time, Smoky. We'll be watching out for you in the arena!" I walk out as the crowd applauds; hoping I did well enough to gain some sponsors.

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

"Now, put your hands together for District Two's Lexiana Porter!" I walk onto the stage and flash a flirty smile for the audience. As I sit down, Tristan lets out a chuckle. "Lexiana, you're at least an inch taller than me. I'm not used to looking up at the tributes." The audience laughs at this comment. "Do you come from a family of tall people?"

"Yes," I say. "My dad's six foot four, and my mom's the same height as me. My twenty-year-old brother is six foot three, and my fourteen-year-old sister is about five foot ten."

"Wow," Tristan says. "That is a tall family! How come your brother didn't volunteer, with his height?"

"I don't know," I say. "The idea never really appealed to him."

"What about your sister? Does she plan to volunteer when she gets older?"

"I think she's considering it," I say. "I think it's really dependent on how I do in the Games. If I win, that may get her really motivated to volunteer. However, if I end up losing, that might change her mind."

"Well that would be great if you both ended up winning. You'd be known to future generations as 'the tall sisters.'"

"Yes, we probably would," I say as the audience explodes in laughter. At that moment, the buzzer rings.

"Well I'm so sorry we don't have any more time to hear from Lexiana. Let's hear it for her!" I smile as I walk off the stage. My long purple dress drags slightly on the floor. I give a final wave, and step backstage.

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

"Let's welcome our next tribute on to the stage; Mars Poole!" I walk onto the stage; trying my best to look intimidating. The look worked pretty well on Smoky, so I'm hoping it will work on me too. I sit down, and Tristan starts rolling the questions out. "So Mars, a strong guy like you has got to have some allies. Who are they?"

"Well, we've gone with the normal career alliance, this year," I say. "Lexiana and I are teamed up with Districts One and Four."

"So what do you think of your allies?"

"Oh they're a pretty good group, but I think I'll be able to beat them all when it comes down to the final few."

Tristan nods. "Have you guys scoped out any possible threats yet?"

"Not really. The other tributes are as weak as always. Although District Nine may be a minor stepping stone we have to overcome." The audience laughs like I just said something funny. They do know I was being serious, right?

"You seem very confident," Tristan says. No duh. "Do you really think you have a huge chance of winning?"

"Certainly," I say. "One hundred percent."

At that moment, the buzzer rings. "Well, I'm sorry we can't hear more from you, Mars, but we'll sure be looking out for you in the arena!" The audience gives one last round of applause as I make my way off the stage.

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

"Now, please join me in welcoming District Three's Jillian Perry!" As I walk onstage, I finger the piece of paper in my pocket to make sure it's still there. If it wasn't, I don't know what I'd do. I make my way to my seat; trying to smile a little. When I make it there, Tristan asks me a question. "How are you enjoying the Capitol so far, Jillian?" Since I can't answer him, I just keep smiling at him. Tristan decides that I probably didn't hear him, and he repeats the question. When I don't answer again, a quizzical look forms on his face. That's when I draw the sheet of folded paper out of my pocket.

_Read it out loud,_ I mouth to Tristan. Thankfully, he understands, and starts reading the paper. "Dear citizens of Panem; right about now, you're probably wondering why I'm not talking. Maybe you think I'm either shy or deaf, but neither of those are the case. The truth is, I can't talk, not even if I wanted to, thanks to a lady at my community home. I'm an orphan, so that's where I have grown up. Two years ago, I walked in on a lady painfully beating and assaulting a young boy, because the boy had stolen her expensive necklace. When the lady saw me watching, she panicked. She was afraid I'd blab about what she did to the little boy. So, to save herself from facing justice, she cut out my tongue in one swipe. These past two years have been difficult; not because I don't have a tongue, but because that lady lives today without suffering consequences for what she has done. But, now, this lady will get what she deserves. Now everyone knows what Dominique Potter has done to me, the little boy, and most likely, a few others. Now that all of Panem knows what this lady has done, I can die in happiness. As a final request from me, please make sure this lady gets what she deserves. Yours truly, Jillian Perry."

Tristan looks up from the paper, at a loss for words. The audience is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I mouth '_thank you_,' to everyone as I nearly skip offstage, before the buzzer even rings. I'm the happiest I've ever been since over two years ago. Right now, I don't even care if I die tomorrow.

**Alfred Jarrod (D3 M 15)**

It takes Tristan Honeybee a while to get back his composure, and start talking again. I don't blame him; Jillian's story shocked even me. And all this time, I just thought she was really shy. When Tristan does start talking again, you can tell his mind is all on Jillian. He isn't as enthusiastic as he was. "Let's give a warm welcome for Alfred Jarrod." As I walk onstage, I barely get any applause. You can tell that everybody's still focused on Jillian. "Alfred, did you know of Jillian's story?"

"No, Tristan, I didn't. I just thought she was really shy."

"Do you have any idea how she got such a high score?"

"I honestly have no idea," I say. I'm starting to get annoyed. This is my interview; we should be talking about me.

"Did she do anything special during training?"

"Well, she did a lot of hiding. I originally thought she was just shy, but now, I don't know why."

"Do you remember ever seeing her in District Three?"

"No, I don't. She's two years younger than me, and our paths never crossed."

"Okay. Well I guess we'll move on to you now, Alfred. Are you prepared for the Games tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I think I am. Those tributes won't know what hit them."

The buzzer rings, at that point. "Let's hear it for Alfred Jarrod." I only get some polite applause as I walk offstage. That went horribly! Tristan just talked about Jillian the whole time. He only asked one lousy question about myself! As much as I feel bad for Jillian and what happened to her, I'm mad that she ruined my interview.

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

"Let's welcome the lovely Seabrook Gloss of District Four!" Tristan's starting to get his composure back. That's good, or I'd have to pulverize the girl from District Three even harder for ruining my interview. I strut onto the stage, my blue-green dress trailing behind me. I flash a smile for the audience as I take my seat. "Hello, Seabrook. How are you doing today?"

"Just wonderful," I say.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"Of course! I can't wait to get in that arena!"

"That's good, that's good. Do you think you have a high chance of winning the Games?"

"Oh without a doubt!" I say. "I'm almost certainly going to win. And, if it isn't me, it will be one of the careers."

"So you don't think any of the other tributes will challenge the careers?"

"Nope."

"Now your ally, Mars, said that Distict Nine may present a tiny challenge. I believe he called them a 'minor stepping stone.' What do you think?"

"I think he's right in the fact that they won't pose a major challenge. After all, there's two of them and six of us. We all outscored the boy, and four of us tied or beat the girl. The careers will knock them down, without a doubt."

The buzzer rings, signaling that my time is up. "Well it was nice hearing from you, Seabrook. Let's hear it for her!" I receive a huge round of applause as I walk confidently off the stage. That went pretty well.

**Hull Weast (D4 M 17)**

"Let's bring out our last member of the career alliance, Hull Weast!" I walk onto the stage to the admiring applause of the crowd. I give them a confident and intimidating smile. "Welcome, Hull! How are you?"

"I'm great."

"How do you like the Capitol."

"It's great."

"I'm sure it's not quite like District Four, is it?"

"Nope. More buildings."

"Yes, there are quite a lot of buildings. Do you miss District Four."

"Sort of. I'll be back soon enough."

"I'm sure you will be. Anyone special back home?"

"Just my mom and dad."

"No siblings?"

"Nope."

The buzzer rings. Finally! This is getting annoying. "Let's hear it one last time for Hull Weast!" I walk offstage as everyone applauds. It might be just me, but it seems like I'm getting less applause than the other careers.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

The boy before me wasn't a man of many , he was still intimidating. "And now, from District Five, the lovely Noel Jackson!" I walk onstage, my dress fluttering behind me. It's white to match my my white-blond hair, with gold stitching. It's by far the prettiest thing I have ever worn. Tristan takes note of it. "Noel, that is a beautiful dress," he says.

"Thank you, Tristan," I say, trying to look as sweet and innocent as possible. That's the angle my mentor and I decided I should be. I think it will work, since I'm the youngest of four. I'm used to being the innocent younger sister.

Ironically, Tristan asks if I have any siblings next. "Yes," I reply. "I have twin sixteen-year-old brothers and an eighteen-year-old sister."

"But she didn't volunteer for you?"

"No. I wouldn't let her."

"You wouldn't let her?"

"Yes. When my name was called out and I walked over to the stage, Melody locked her eyes on me. I knew she was about to volunteer. But I shook my head, and she got the message. It was my name that was reaped, not her's, so it's my destiny to participate."

"Well that was very brave of you."

"Thanks, Tristan."

"Now did your sister come to say goodbye to you, after the reaping?"

"Yes, she did."

"What did she say to you?"

"She told me that I do have a chance in these Games, especially because of the Quarter Quell twist. And she gave me this." I hold up my wrist to display the intricate bracelet Melody gave me. The audience oohs and ahhs. It is the most expensive thing my family owns.

"What's that symbol on it?" Tristan asks.

"It's a music note," I say. "Before Panem, people used these to create music. I come from a family of old musicians. Many, many generations ago, there was a really famous one. But no one knows who he is anymore."

At that moment, the buzzer rings. "Thanks for speaking to us, Noel Jackson. Let's give her one last round of applause!" I walk back out as the citizens clap and whistle. That actually went pretty well.

**Geoffrey Williams (D5 M 16)**

"Let's give a round of applause for Geoffrey Williams!" As I walk onstage, I hope no one notices how much I'm sweating. I make a mental note to keep my arms down. Tristan Honeybee welcomes me onstage, and asks me the first question. "Has the Capitol impressed you so far?"

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing," I reply.

"What's impressed you most?"

"Well, probably the size and amount of all the buildings. Coming from District Five, I'm amazed by all the energy needed to power everything. I heard once that the Capitol uses over three-fourths of Pamem's energy. I didn't really believe it then, but I certainly believe it now."

"Yes, the Capitol does need plenty of power. Especially during this time of year. The Hunger Games requires boatloads of energy."

"Yeah, I'm sure it does."

"Can we have any information on your allies?"

"I suppose so. I'm teamed up with Levi, from District Ten."

"And do you think the alliance will be beneficial on both parts?"

"Yes, it will. We each have our own assortment of strengths and weaknesses that will help us survive."

"So what about if you and Levi were in the final two together. Do you think you'd attempt to kill him, in the end?"

"Yes, I probably would. Allies are supposed to be temporary, as a strategy to get back home. We've actually talked about this before, and we each agreed that our alliance is over once it gets down to the final two."

The buzzer rings, making me happy this interview is finally over. "Well I'm sorry, Geoffrey, but we're out of time. Let's hear it for him!" As soon as I step off the stage, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. That went pretty well. At least I didn't embarrass myself in front of Panem.

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

"Now I present to you, the lovely, Kat Stanley!" I walk towards my seat as the Capitol citizens cheer. I give some friendly waves, and then take my seat. "Welcome, Kat," Tristan says to me. "How are you, today?"

"Oh I'm just wonderful," I say.

"Now your name, Kat; does it stand for anything, or is that your full name?"

"It's my full name," I say.

"Well I love your name. It reminds me of the animal. Do you like cats?"

"Yes, I do. I have a black cat named Angel."

"Angel; that's an unusual name for a black cat."

"Yeah, my four-year-old sister picked it out a year ago. She thought it was a sweet name."

"Well, it's not quite the name I would have picked out for a black cat, but it is a sweet name. Now do you have any other siblings, besides your sister?"

"Yes. I have an eleven-year-old brother."

"And what are their names?"

"Sabrina and Peyton," I say.

"I'm assuming they came to say goodbye to you."

"Yes."

"And what did they say to you?"

"They wished me good luck, and they told me to try to win. Sabrina doesn't really understand what's happening, but she'll understand eventually."

The buzzer rings then. I'm glad, because I'm about to burst into tears. "Thanks for your time, Kat, and good luck in the Hunger Games!" I get a round of applause as I walk offstage. I guess that could have gone worse.

**Troy Ross (D6 M 15)**

"Let's welcome to the stage, Troy Ross!" I walk onto the stage, trying to look serious. That's my angle for the interviews. I'm supposed to look like everyone is beneath me. I sit down in my seat, and nod when Tristan welcomes me. "Now, you got a seven during training. Any hints on what you did?"

"Nope. Sorry Tristan. You'll find out tomorrow."

"Any hints on a preferred weapon?"

"Nope."

"Not even one hint?"

"Nope."

"Wow, you're a tough nut to crack! So, since you won't tell us anything about your strengths, what about your allies? Do you have any of those?"

"Nope. I'm all by myself."

"Do you like having no allies?"

"Yes, I do. Allies are bad news. Only one can win, so you'll have to turn on them eventually."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. So do you have anyone singled out as possible threats yet?"

"Well, obviously there's the careers. Also, anyone else in an alliance will outnumber me. So, I think I'll just have to lie low until the end."

"Well, at least we got our tough nut to say something!" Laughter breaks out throughout the spectators. Wonderful; now everyone will know me as 'the nut.' The buzzer rings after Tristan's comment. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Troy. We'll be watching out for you in the arena. Let's hear it one last time for our tough nut!" I walk offstage, keeping a straight face. That went okay, besides the fact that I have a new nickname.

**Part two of the interviews comes next. Please vote in the poll! We're only two chapters away from the bloodbath! So far, from poll votes and comments, I've got five definite survivors of the bloodbath! Please make it more. :-)**


	11. Chapter 11: Interviews (Part Two)

**Interviews (Part 2)**

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

"Let's give a warm welcome to Miss Ciera Dawson!" I walk onstage, and give the crowd a nice smile. I take my seat near Tristan Honeybee. "Hello Ciera!"

"Hi, Tristan!"

"Now, Ciera, I have to point out something many of us have probably noticed. You're from District Seven, you're seventeen years old, and your training score was a seven. You seem to like the number seven." The crowd lets out a small laugh.

"I guess I do, Tristan."

"Well, seven is supposed to be a lucky number."

"Some luck would be nice," I say, which makes the audience laugh.

"Well, good luck to you, Ciera. Now, speaking of your seven in training, can we have any hints on what you did?"

"Sorry, Tristan. You know I can't tell."

"Well, can we play a guessing game, like we did with Gemma?"

"Sure," I say. "You won't be able to guess my weapon, though."

"A challenge? We'll see about that, Ciera! Now, how many words?"

"One."

"An axe," he says.

"Nope."

"What? That's almost always the weapon for District Seven!"

"Well not this year, Tristan," I say. "Guess again."

"Knives?"

"Nope."

"Spear."

"Nope."

"Uhh, a sword?"

"Nope."

The buzzer rings at that moment. "Well, you win, Ciera. I guess we'll find out tomorrow. Let's give her a hand!" I walk offstage as the crowd cheers. I think I did pretty well. I might have gained some sponsors.

**Jorge Mosley (D7 M 15)**

"And now, let's hear from Jorge Mosley!" I step onstage, and give a small wave to the audience. I sit down in my seat, and Tristan starts interrogating me. "How has your time been in the Capitol?"

"Oh it's been great. The Capitol is so high-tech. It took me five minutes to figure out how to flush the toilet."

"Yes, it is very high-tech," Tristan says with a laugh. "Now let's hear a little bit about District Seven. Do you miss it?"

"Yes, I do."

"Any special people you'd like to mention?"

"Well, I miss my mom and dad of course. There's also my little brother, and my best friend, Tyrone."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be cheering for you in the Quarter Quell."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So so you have any allies for the Quell?"

"Nope, it's just me."

"Any special strategies?"

"Well, I'm just hoping to evade all the other tributes. If I'll have a better chance if I quickly run away from the bloodbath, without killing anyone."

"Interesting. How do you think the Quarter Quell will affect the tributes this year?"

"Well, I think it will make the tributes more reluctant to kill others. However, I personally don't think the careers will care."

Before Tristan can respond, the buzzer rings. "I'm sorry, Jorge, but that's all the time we have for you today. Let's give him a round of applause!" I walk offstage as the crowd applauds. That went okay, I guess.

**Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)**

"Let's bring out, the lovely, Lynette Shultz!" I walk onto the stage, hoping that I do look 'lovely'. I'm dressed in a silver, knee-length dress, with gold trim. It's the prettiest dress I've ever worn. "Welcome, Lynette! How are you, today?"

"I'm just fine! How about you, Tristan?"

"Oh I'm feeling very pleasant, today. Thanks for asking."

"No problem!"

"Your dress reminds me of the one the girl from District Five was wearing; Noel."

"Yes, they're very similar. Noel and I are allies, by the way."

"You are?"

"Yes. We've got a lot in common."

"Like what?"

"Well, we're both fourteen, and shorter than the average tribute. We're both better at survival skills than we are at weaponry, although we both enjoy climbing on the ropes course. We're also each the youngest child in our families."

"Wow, you do have a lot in common. You guys are like twins! Well, besides the fact that you don't look much alike!" That comment causes the audience to laugh. "So, back to your family; you said you have older siblings?"

"Yes. I have an older brother, he's sixteen, and an older sister who's nineteen."

"Do you believe they're watching you right now?"

"Yes, they probably are."

"Anything you'd like to say to them?"

"Just... I'll try my hardest to get back to you; even if it involves.. killing." My voice shakes on that last word. "I love both of you. Keep your fingers crossed for my safe return."

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of my interview. I'm pretty relieved it's over. "Thank you so much for speaking to us, Lynette, and good luck tomorrow. Ladies and gentlemen, Lynette Shultz!" After a wave to the audience, I step offstage, and breathe a sigh of relief. I'm so glad that's over, although it went pretty well.

**Jonas Cooke (D8 M 16)**

"And now, let's hear from Jonas Cooke; District Eight!" I walk onstage, trying to look confident. I don't want anyone to sort me out as a weakling. I got a six, which is an okay score, but I'll still need some sponsor support. I sit down in my seat. "Welcome, Jonas! How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Let's get straight to the juicy stuff; do you have a strategy for the Quell?"

"Well, I'm hoping to showcase my newly discovered skill, and show those tributes who's boss."

"Well that's a pretty good strategy," Tristan says, chuckling a bit. "I'm guessing you're not going to tell us your special skill."

"Nope."

"I thought so. Now do you have any allies?"

"Nope, it's just me."

"And I'm assuming that you're not going to tell us what you did during your private training session."

"Nope."

"Okay. Well do you have any family at home?"

"Just my mom, dad, and I."

"Any friends?"

"Yeah; my friends Joey and Thorne."

"Did they visit you before you left District Eight?"

"Yeah."

"And what did they say?"

"They said that they knew I had a chance to win the Games. They told me that District Eight may finally gain another victor this year."

"Well that's nice of them." The buzzer rings. "Well we're out of time, Jonas. It was nice hearing from you. Good luck tomorrow!"

"Thanks!" I walk offstage and breathe a sigh of relief. That went alright, I guess. Hopefully I gained some sponsors.

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

"Let's give a warm welcome to Miss Carmen Sylvester!" I walk onstage, smiling at the crowd. I take my seat, knowing very well what I'm about to be asked about. "So Carmen, there's a rumor that you are the daughter of Jules Sylvester, victor of the 98th Hunger Games. Can you confirm this rumor?"

"Yes, Tristan, I can." Excited whispering breaks out throughout the citizens. I've given them something to gossip about.

"Wow," Tristan says. "Do you think being a victor's daughter will increase your chances?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm sure I can get some sponsorship from some of my dad's old friends and sponsors. I've also done some training with him."

"Wow. You've done previous training? Is that how you got the ten."

"Yes."

"Amazing. Why aren't you allied with the careers? You're obviously just as skilled as they are."

"The careers and I don't exactly... see eye to eye. Besides, I've got an even better ally."

"Roland, my district partner."

"Interesting; a District Nine alliance! Now is Roland a good ally?"

"He's the best ally anyone could ask for. He's smart and very skilled."

"Well I'm sure District Nine will be a force to be reckoned with, this year!"

"Yes, we will be. The careers will have to watch their backs."

The buzzer rings, ending my interview. Truthfully, I'm relieved that it's finally over. "Let's give one more round of applause for Carmen Sylvester; daughter of a victor!" The audience explodes with applause. I'm getting more applause than most of the careers! I nearly skip offstage. I'm sure I've just won plenty of sponsors."

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

"Let's give a round of applause for Roland Fringe!" I walk onto the stage, glad that Carmen has warmed up the crowd. Speaking of Carmen, I'm pretty touched by the compliments she gave me. I didn't know she cared about me that much. I sit down in my chair, and Tristan starts with the questions. "Now Roland, you're in an alliance with Carmen."

"Yes."

"What do you think? Is she a good ally?"

"Obviously! That girl knows how to kick some serious butt. You'll be amazed by what she can do!"

"I'm sure we will be. It's not every year we get a victor's child! Can we have any insight on the talents you guys posses?"

"Sorry, Tristan. You're probably sick of hearing it, but you'll find out tomorrow."

"Yes, that has been the popular answer tonight. So Roland, do you come from any special family?"

"Not really. It's just me, my mom, my dad, and my little sister."

"You have a little sister? How old?"

"Fourteen."

"Was she sad when your name was reaped?"

"She was heartbroken."

"Well, you'll just have to win, so you can get back to her."

"I suppose."

"So what do you think of Mars, the boy from District Two, calling you a 'minor stepping stone?'"

"Oh he'll find out that he's wrong, soon enough."

The buzzer rings. That's pretty perfect timing. "Let's give a final round of applause for Mr. Roland Fringe!" I walk offstage, hoping I pleased some sponsors. I'll need all the help I can get, tomorrow.

**Savannah Troy (D10 F 12)**

"Let's welcome young Savannah Troy!" I walk onstage, smiling; despite the fact that I'm mad he called me ' young.' Unfortunately, my mentor has forced me to take on the angle of a sweet, innocent, little girl. I'm nothing like that, but my mentor told me I'd get the most sponsors if I took on that angle. He also told me he wouldn't collect any sponsor money if I didn't follow that angle. So, I think I'll act all sweet and innocent. "Welcome to the stage, Savannah! Now you're only twelve, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," I say.

"And you're five feet five inches tall?"

"Yes."

"Wow! I don't think I hit five foot five until about fourteen! Do you think being twelve will hurt your chances?"

I'm about to say 'no', but I catch my mentor's eye, and he shakes his head. "I don't know," I say, hoping I sound truthful. "I obviously don't have the strength of the older tributes."

Tristan gives me a sad smile. "Well, I'm sure you'll do fine," he says. I reply by giving him what hopefully looks like a melancholy smile. "Remember, you did manage to get a six in training. Can we have a hint on what you did?" I shake my head. "Okay," Tristan says. "Can we have any insight on your strategy for the Games?"

"Well, I'm just hoping to stay out of the way of the older tributes. If I do that, maybe... maybe I'll be able to survive." I try to sound sweet, innocent, and helpless. I look at my mentor. Judging by the nod he's giving me, I think I'm doing okay.

"Well, you never know; you might turn out to be okay." Well, Tristan's gotten one thing right. "So, any particular people you miss in District Ten?"

"Well, there's my mom and dad, of course. And then I have a few friends."

"So you're an only child."

"Yes. At least, I have been for the past five years."

Now I've got the audience's attention. "Go on," Tristan says.

"Well, five years ago, my older sister, Larissa, got on the bad side of some Peacekeepers. They falsely accused her of a crime. When she continued to claim she was innocent, they shot her." I let tears leak out of my eyes. I think I could hold them back if I tried, but something tells me that crying will get the audience's attention more. Maybe it's the murderous look in my mentor's eyes.

The buzzer rings, which saves Tristan from coming up with a response."Well that's all the time we have. Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for Savannah Troy!" I walk offstage, smiling a watery smile. I hope I convinced some sponsors to support me. If my mentor was wrong about this angle getting me sponsors, then I'm in trouble when it comes to tomorrow.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

Finally, weeping Savannah is dismissed from the stage, and my name is called. "From District Ten, Levi Dwight!" I walk onstage, trying to look confident and intimidating. That's my angle; confident and intimidating. I wanted to go with _super awesome macho man whose enemies cower in fear_, but my mentor refused. So for now, I'm confident and intimidating. "Welcome, Levi," Tristan says as I take my seat. "So how's it going?"

"Pretty good," I say. "After all, only one more day until the Hunger Games."

"Yes, we're almost there. I'm very excited as well." Tristan looks his watch. "We've got exactly thirteen hours, thirty-four minutes, and twenty-five seconds," he says, showing me his two-sided watch. One side tells the time, while the other one counts down to the Games."

"That's a pretty neat watch," I say.

"Indeed. I got it as a gift from a special Capitol admirer. Well, we're not here to talk about my social life, so let's talk about you! On a scale of one to ten, how prepared are you for the Games?"

"A definite ten," I say. "I'm very prepared for the Quell."

"Do you think the Quarter Quell's twist will affect your performance?"

"I doubt it," I say. "I think it will actually help me."

"How so?"

"Well, the career alliance will plan to kill as much as possible, which gives them a huge disadvantage."

"I guess so," Tristan says. "Now do you have any allies."

"Just one; Geoffrey from District Five."

"Oh yeah. If I remember right, he said that you two would try to kill each other if it came down to the final two. Do you agree with that?"

"Yeah, I do. He's right in saying that allies are supposed to be temporary. When it comes down to it, yeah, I'll fight him."

Tristan opens his mouth to ask another question, but the ring of the buzzer stops him. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Levi. Let's hear it for him!" As I walk offstage, I hope I pleased some sponsors.

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

"Now, let's hear it for Piper Hagen, District Eleven!" I walk onstage, waving cheerfully. That's my angle; cheerful and likable. "Welcome, Piper," Tristan says as I sit down. "Now I must ask about your name. It's very pretty, but what many Capitol citizens are wondering is where did your name come from?"

"Well, a piper used to refer to someone who plays a flute. When she was little, my mom had the job of telling the orchard workers that it was time to call it a day. She did this by playing a flute. The name 'Piper' reminded her of her childhood, so she convinced my dad to name me so."

"That's neat. Now have you taken on the job of your mother?"

"No, there's another girl that does it. But I do play the flute. In fact, I have it with me, as my district token." I pull the small, wooden flute that my mother carved for me out of my pocket.

"That's beautiful," Tristan says. "Can you play something for us?"

"Sure," I say. I play a quick little song that my mom taught me. She called it 'Sunshine'.

"That was beautiful," Tristan says when I finish. The audience claps as well. The buzzer rings. "Thanks so much, Piper, for talking and playing some beautiful music for us. Let's give her a nice round of applause!" I walk offstage, pretty confident that I just gained a few sponsors.

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

"Let's welcome Mr. Thurmond Richard!" I walk onstage, the audience clapping noticeably less than what they did for Piper. "Welcome, Thurmond! Take a seat!" I sit down. "How are you?"

"Oh I'm just fine," I reply.

"That's good. Now what has impressed you most, since you arrived in the Capitol?"

"I don't know. The Capitol holds many wonders."

"It certainly does. I still discover new things every day. For example, today, Geoffrey from District Five taught me that the Capitol uses three fourths of Pamem's energy. Isn't that a lot?"

"Yes, it is."

"Now do you have any special strategies for the Games?"

"Well, I'm just hoping to outsmart the other tributes. I've been told that I'm pretty smart."

"Well brains can get you far in the Games, contrary to many beliefs."

"I couldn't agree more."

"So do you have any family members you miss, back in District Eleven?"

"Yeah. There's my mom, dad, older sister, and younger brother."

"Cool! Do any of them wear glasses, like you?"

"Yeah; my dad and sister do."

"Interesting; it runs in the family." The buzzer rings. "Well that's all the time we have for you, Thurmond. Let's give him a hand!" I walk offstage, thinking that I could have done worse.

**Violet Copley (D12 F 16)**

"Let's welcome Violet Copley from District Twelve!" I walk onto the stage; trying to smile a convincing smile. Tristan welcomes me as I sit down in the comfortable seat. "How do you feel about the Games being only one day away?"

"I don't really know."

"Excited, nervous, scared, prepared?"

"A little of each, I think."

"I know what you mean. Tributes often have a lot running through their minds during the days leading up to the Games. So, do you have any allies?"

"Yes, I do. I'm allied with Kat from District Six and Ciera from District Seven."

"Are they sufficient allies?"

"Yes, they are. After all, Kat got a six in training and Ciera got a seven."

"And what unique talents do you bring to the alliance."

"Well, I'm more brains than brawn. I can't tell you any more than that, Tristan."

"What about Kat's and Ciera's skills."

"All I'll say is that they're much better at weapons than I am."

"Well, you three will certainly be a force to be reckoned with." The buzzer rings. "Well, we're all out of time. Let's give Violet a round of applause!" I walk offstage, my smile more real this time. I'm so relieved that my interview's over. It didn't run as smooth as glass, but I didn't expect anything better.

Eli Phillis (D12 M 15)

Finally, my name is called. "And last but not least, Eli Phillis from District Twelve." I walk onstage, and acknowledge, but not smile at the crowd. My mentor has told me to act serious, yet likable. It's a tricky task, but my mentor said that if anyone could pull it off, it would be me. I'm actually surprised by how much faith my mentor has in me. Anyways, as I sit down, Tristan welcomes me. "Welcome, Eli," he says. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm great," I say.

"That's good. What's your strategy, for tomorrow."

"Well, I'm just going to do my best to keep staying alive, and then take it from there."

"Well, staying alive is important," Tristan says with a laugh. "So do you have any allies that you'll be 'saying alive' with?"

"Nope. It's just me."

"Just you," Tristan repeats. "Do you like that or would you rather have an ally?"

"I think it's best if I'm on my own. That will keep me from getting backstabbed by someone who I thought cared about me."

"Yes, there are both good and bad sides to having allies. Now if you were forced to have an ally, who would it be?"

"I don't really know. My district partner, Violet, is pretty cool, but she already has allies, and I wouldn't want to have a group of four." The buzzer rings at that moment; saving me from having to come up with someone else.

"Well, let's give a final round of applause for Eli Phillis!" As I walk off the stage, I hear Tristan wrapping up the show. "Thank you, citizens of Panem, for watching the interviews for the 125th Hunger Games; the 5th Quarter Quell. Tune in tomorrow at ten o'clock for the start of the Games. Good night Panem!" I walk up to my room and collapse on my bed. Hopefully, I'll get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow. After all, this very well may be the last time I can get proper sleep.

**I'm so excited! The bloodbath comes next! Hurry up and cast your votes, because I've already started writing it! :-) :-) :-)**


	12. Chapter 12: The Bloodbath

**The ****Bloodbath:**

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

My stylist gives me one last pitiful look as I soar up through the tube. My entire body's shaking from nerves. As my body rises higher, I wonder what the arena will be like. Hopefully, it will be a forest; my home turf. However, a forest is an overused, cliché arena, so I doubt that's what it will be.

When I rise out of the ground, I discover that my hopes are sort of true. As I look around, I take in all the scenery. To my right and left, I see nothing but wide open fields. In front of me, on the other side of the cornucopia, there's a giant lake. Behind me stands a cliff; about twice the size of the climbing wall in the training room. On the top of the cliff, there looks to be a nice deciduous forest. That's certainly where I want to go, but getting up it will be tricky. Climbing up the cliff, I'll be completely exposed, and I've seen some careers throw with deadly accuracy. Hopefully, I can get up while they're still grabbing their weapons.

As the countdown starts, I spot Kat. She's four pedestals to my left. By the look in her eyes, I can tell that she knows what we have to do. We need to climb up that cliff face as fast as we can, without grabbing any supplies. But, when I pry my eyes away from Kat, I spot a green backpack lying on the ground only about ten feet away from me. I can easily grab it and then dash towards the cliff. It's risky, but I may need the supplies.

I scan the arena again, and discover that I can't see Violet. She's probably on the other side of the cornucopia. Dang it! Hopefully, she's thinking the same thing, and will dash straight towards the cliff. However, she'll have to run past the cornucopia, and she's not exactly the fastest person I know. But, with a bit of luck, maybe the three of us will make it to the top alive.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

As the countdown reaches thirty seconds, I make eye contact with Lynette, who's six pedestals to my left. We need to climb up the cliff before the careers can get to us. She's closer to the cliff, so she'll be able to get to it faster. However, my climbing time was a few seconds faster than her's, so we'll probably reach the top around the same time. That is, if we're not shot down by careers.

The supplies scattered around the cornucopia are very tempting. However, I know that I need to hurry if I want to get to the top of the cliff before the careers get to me. Besides, Lynette and I worked enough on survival skills stations, so we'll be able to find enough food and survival.

As I look around the arena, my mind wavers to a cruel possibility that the Gamemakers might have imposed. What if the lake's the only source of water? That would force the other tributes to go to the lake every so often. My guess is the careers will probably make camp down here, by the lake. So the rest of us will have to either sneak down the cliff or rely on sponsors for water. Hopefully, that's not the case, because I doubt Lynette and I have many sponsors.

As these thoughts run through my mind, I spot a huge water jug, only about twelve feet away from me, which looks like it could hold about a gallon. However, the bottle isn't see-through, so I have no idea if it has water in it or not. But, as the countdown reaches ten seconds, I realize that water's going to be very important. I need to take the gamble.

I look back at Lynette, who's been watching my eyes. By the look she's giving me, I can tell that she knows what I want to do, and she doesn't agree with it. But, I know that I have to.

3...

2...

1..

I dash towards the jug of water.

**Violet Copley (D12 F 16)**

At the sound of the gong, everyone dashes off their platform; including me. I need to get to the cliff on the other side of the cornucopia. I'm not that fast, but hopefully, I can get to the cliff before the careers get their hands on weapons.

The fastest way to get to the cliff is straight through the action. Although I'm not particularly fond of that route, I need to get to the cliff quickly. As I run, I see that Kat has already reached the cliff, right alongside the girl from District Eight. Meanwhile, Ciera is grabbing a backpack. I suddenly realize that I'm running right past bags of supplies. I can easily grab one as I run. My eyes catch on a mid-sized blue one. I slow down to grab it; making the biggest mistake of my life.

I feel a sharp pain in my ribs, and fall to the ground. I look up to see who shoved me. It's Mars, the boy from District Two. He's only armed with a knife, but I immediately know that I don't stand a chance. "Make it quick," I beg, as he runs the knife through my chest. I collapse to the ground, and everything turns black.

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

About ten seconds has passed, and so far, only one tribute is dead. And I'm still standing on my pedestal. Personally, I want to die now, in the bloodbath. The careers would make my death fast; eager to get on to the next tribute. I don't want to suffer for days, to be killed at the right moment. I know I have absolutely no chance in the Games, so I might as well die now.

I watch as the District Two boy pulls the knife out of the chest of the girl from District Twelve. He locks his eyes on me. I'm his new target. The boy runs towards me as fast as he can, probably thinking I'm going to run. However, he's five feet away from me when everything changes.

A figure dashes at the boy, and tackles him. I can't tell who it is, at first, but I soon realize that it's Alfred, my district partner. I'm confused. Alfred knows he can't beat a career in a fight, so why would he tackle him, with only a knife in his hand?

"Go, Jillian!" Alfred shouts. His voice is muffled as he wrestles the career. "You deserve to win, after what you've been through! You have a better chance of winning! You got a seven in training! You'll have sponsors!"

I think about what Alfred has said, and realize that he's sacrificing himself for me. But, why? He must know that I'll never win. However, I have to make sure his sacrifice isn't in vain. I turn around and dash towards the cliff.

In about ten seconds, I hear Alfred cry out in pain, and I know that it's over. I take a risk by turning around on the cliff face. I see the career pull his knife out of Alfred's lifeless body, and he turns towards me. I'm barely an eighth of the way up the cliff, so he decides to throw his knife at me. But, since throwing knives aren't his strongest weapon, he misses me by about a foot. Scowling, he turns around and heads back towards the cornucopia, looking for a weapon. I guess I'm safe for down. I continue climbing the cliff as the battle rages behind me.

**Troy Ross (D6 M 15)**

About half a minute has past, and I have grabbed a backpack and two spears. My eyes lock on an orange backpack. As I grab the pack, the boy from District Five does as well. We wrestle for the pack, but I eventually get on top of him. I pull out one of my spears, and send it through his stomach. He falls to the ground, and I pull my spear out. I makes a loud squelch; a sound I that I don't really want to hear again.

As I pick up the backpack and head towards the cliff, I decide I'm pretty glad to have a person on my kill list. That may turn some sponsors towards me. After all, I did get a seven in training, so this kill may make the sponsors realize that I have a shot in the Games.

I'm about halfway between the cornucopia and the cliff when I'm shoved to the ground by the boy from District One. He has a spear in his hand. Using a skill that I learned at training, I knock the spear out of his hand. The boy curses at me, and runs to retrieve his spear, so I keep dashing towards the cliff.

As I climb up the cliff, I see that the girls from Districts Five, Six, Seven, and Eight and Eleven are about halfway to the top. The girl from Three, the boy from Seven, the boy from Eleven, and District Nine are about a quarter of the way up. The girl from Ten has just started climbing. I find a foothold, and start climbing.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

The boy from District Eight and I have caught ourselves in a little tussle over a red backpack. I swing at him with my axe, as he jabs with his spear. I have a little bit of a length disadvantage, but an axe holds more power than a spear. Eventually, I get him in the side of the chest, and he falls to the ground, dead. Hopefully, his zombie will be merciful.

Now, I need to dash towards the cliff. The careers are mainly focused on grabbing their favorite weapons and killing the boy from District Twelve. However, as I head towards the cliff, the boy from District Four blocks my path.

The boy hasn't managed to find a trident yet, which I know is his favorite weapon. Instead, he holds a spear. With the axe's great power, I strike the axe and send it flying. It lands over twenty feet away from where we're standing. Defenseless, the boy runs to retrieve his spear, and I continue towards the cliff.

I take one quick look back at the cornucopia before heading up the cliff. The District Two tributes are engaged in a sword fight with the boy from District Twelve. He won't last much longer. District One and the girl from District Four are looking around the cornucopia for supplies and weapons. The boy from District Four is still retrieving his spear. I turn back around, and head up the cliff.

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

I finally run my sword through the stomach of the boy from District Twelve. He held up for nearly half a minute, which is pretty good when you're fighting two careers. The boy's bloody body falls to the ground, and I pull my sword out. I wipe the blood of my sword with a backpack, and put it back in my belt. Mars looks mad that he didn't deliver the kill. Well, I have always been the better sword fighter. I don't understand why Mars is so mad; he's already got two kills.

Anyways, we have now cleared all of the non-careers off of the land. They're all climbing the cliff now. A few of them are nearly at the top. Gemma and Seabrook walk over to Mars and I. They have their knives and bow and arrows in their hands. "Want us to try to shoot down some tributes?" Gemma asks.

"Go ahead," says Mars. Gemma and Seabrook are the only ones who prefer the light, long-distance weapons, so it makes sense that they go for the tributes. As they run closer to the cliff, the girls from Districts Six, Seven, and Eleven are pulling themselves over the top ledge. They are closely followed by the pair from District Nine and the girls from Districts Five and Eight. The seven of them are probably out of range, but the Gemma and Seabrook may be able to hit the others.

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

I walk closer to the cliff with Seabrook at my side. I have ten knives, and she has a dozen arrows. "Who should we go for?" she asks.

"Go for the weakest looking ones," I say. "Let's try the girl from District Ten."

We start firing at her. Using all my strength, I launch knives at her, but she has a backpack covering her back, which makes her harder to hit. Finally, when I'm on my fifth knife, I get her in the head. If the knife didn't kill her, the fall did. She plummets to the ground and lands with an unpleasant smack.

"Nice one," Seabrook says. "Should we go for the girl from Three next?"

"Sure," I say, and we pick up our weapons again. This girl is a bit higher up than the other girl was, so my shots are less accurate. I go through all five knives pretty quickly, and then turn to Seabrook who's notching her last arrow. She takes aim and fires, but misses.

"Drat!" Seabrook says. She glances up at the remaining half dozen tributes scrambling up the cliff face. "Should we go for any more?" she asks.

"Nah," I reply. "By the time we found new weapons, they'd be gone. And, they're out of our range as it is."

As Seabrook collects her fallen arrows, I collect my knives. I only find eight. I know there's one lodged in the head of the girl from District Ten, but I wonder where the other one went. Maybe it got stuck on a rock and didn't fall back down. Whatever the reason, I don't mind, because there's bound to be more knives in the cornucopia.

At that moment, the bloodbath cannons begin to go off. One... two... three... four... five... six. Only six cannons? That's not a lot at all.

We call an informal career meeting to discuss the dead tributes and threats. "So, I'll go first," Mars says. "I killed the girl from District Twelve and the boy from District Three."

"I got the boy from Twelve." Lexiana adds.

"I got the girl from Ten," I say.

"Okay, that's four," Mars says. "Anyone know about the fifth and sixth deaths?"

"The boy from Six killed the boy from Five," Smoky says. "I saw it."

"And do you have anything to report, Hull?" Mars asks.

"The boy from Ten killed the boy from Eight," Hull grunts.

"Well, wonderful," Mars says. "Six down, seventeen more to go. How about we focus on gathering supplies and weapons right now. Maybe we'll do some tribute hunting later." I get straight to work. After all, I can't wait to start the tribute hunt.

_**The Fallen (6):**_

**Alfred Jarrod (D3 M 15)**

Killed by Mars. A knife was run through his body when he tried to save Jillian.

**Geoffrey Williams (D5 M 16)**

Killed by Troy. A spear was run through his body when he caught himself in the middle of a fight with Troy.

**Jonas Cooke (D8 F 16)**

Killed by Levi. He was hit in the side with an axe while fighting over a backpack.

**Savannah Troy (D10 F 12)**

Killed by Gemma. She was hit by a knife when climbing the cliff and plummeted to her death.

**Violet Copley (D12 F 16)**

Killed by Mars. She was shoved to the ground, and then hit in the chest with a knife.

**Eli Phillis (D12 M 15)**

Killed by Lexiana. He engaged in a sword fight with both District Two tributes, but was eventually hit in the stomach.

_**Remaining Tributes (18):**_

**D1:**

Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)

Smoky Willis (D1 M 18)

**D2:**

Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)

Mars Poole (D2 M 18)

**D3:**

Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)

**D4:**

Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)

Hull Weast (D4 M 17)

**D5:**

Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)

**D6:**

Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)

Troy Ross (D6 M 15)

**D7:**

Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)

Jorge Mosley (D7 M 15)

**D8:**

Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)

**D9:**

Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)

Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)

**D10:**

Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)

**D11:**

Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)

Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)

_**Kills:**_

**Mars: **Violet, Alfred

**Gemma:** Savannah

**Lexiana:** Eli

**Troy:** Geoffrey

**Levi:** Jonas

_**Alliances:**_

**Gemma/Smoky/Lexiana/Mars/Seabrook/Hull**

**Noel/Lynette**

**Kat/Ciera**

**Carmen/Roland**

**Jillian**

**Troy**

**Jorge**

**Levi**

**Piper**

**Thurmond**

**Sorry this chapter took so long. In my first draft, without realizing it, I killed Jonas from District Eight three times. (Oops!) So, I kept my promise. All tributes who got voted for at least once survived. I've taken down the poll, but I'll put up a new one once we get to the final few. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thanks for all the reviews. :-)**


	13. Chapter 13: Day One

**Day One:**

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

We quickly figure out the correlation between the bags. There's five different colors; red, blue, orange, green, and yellow. Red bags contain a bottle of water, a sleeping bag, a package of dried fruit, and a package of crackers. Blue bags contain a blanket, night vision goggles, rope, and some matches. Orange bags contain a set of utensils, an empty bottle of water, iodine, a coat, and a knife. Green bags contain two bottles of water, a can of soup, a can of creamed corn, and two granola bars. Yellow bags contain a pair of socks, a pack of dried beef strips, a flashlight, and an empty water bottle. I'm glad we have all five types of bags, because they each hold something different. Some bags are mostly food, while others are mostly supplies.

I have also found another bow and a dozen more arrows. It looks like the Gamemakers have placed three sets in the cornucopia, because I saw the girl from District Six run off with a bow and a sheath of arrows. Well, when we kill her, I'll have three sets, which will probably be enough. Hull has found one trident. I wonder what he'll do when he loses it, because he has no other weapon skills. Gemma has an ample amount of throwing knives, and Smoky's found two spears. Lexiana has three swords, including the one she won from the boy from District Twelve. Mars has two machetes. Overall, it seems like they've supplies less weapons than normal, but it's still enough.

Along with bags and weapons, we've found some other supplies lying on the ground, such as water jugs, extra clothes, and two tents. We've decided that one tent will be the girls' tent, and the other will belong to the boys. One boy and one girl will take watch every night, and they'll wake another two up halfway through the night to switch. It seems like a good enough plan to me. I'm actually surprised that Mars came up with it.

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

Carmen and I escaped the bloodbath with a sickle, a spear, a blue bag, and an orange one. In them, we found a blanket, night vision goggles, some rope, some matches, a set of utensils, an empty bottle of water, iodine, a coat, and a knife. We didn't get any food or water, but we probably have sponsors, so that shouldn't be a problem.

About half an hour has passed since the bloodbath. Carmen and I had decided, ahead of time, to just grab a bag and a weapon, and get the heck out of there. This early in the Games, we're outnumbered by the careers. We shouldn't attack until at least half of them are dead. I wonder how long that will take. Hopefully, they'll either get attacked by zombies, or kill off each other.

Right now, we're wandering through the woods. We don't have any need to find shelter quickly, because the careers are probably lazing around the cornucopia. Plus, none of the other alliances pose a threat to us. So far, the forest we're in seems pretty ordinary. Carmen's already pointed out a clump of edible berry bushes. However, I know the woods won't remain normal for long. The Gamemakers will throw some cruel obstacles at us soon.

We find a cluster of huge boulders, pretty soon. There's an opening in them, that forms a fairly big cave. "Do you want to camp here?" Carmen asks.

"Sure," I say. The cave is big enough for both of us to lay down in it. It will also be easy to camouflage the entrance. We can place some rocks, branches, or other materials in front of the hole. This cave may work, for now.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

At the bloodbath, the jug that I dashed for turned out to be filled with water. It also had a convenient strap on it, so that I could sling the jug over my shoulder as I climbed the cliff. Lynette wasn't too happy that I grabbed the water at the bloodbath. However, we haven't found any source of water yet, so Lynette may change her mind soon.

We haven't encountered much yet. The careers obviously haven't started tribute hunting yet. If they had, we would have heard them tearing through the woods ages ago. All we've heard so far is the occasional chirp of a bird. We haven't encountered any other tributes, as well. That's good, because we're completely unarmed. We've got nothing except the water jug and the clothes on our backs.

As we walk through the woods, Lynette suddenly stops in her tracks. "What's wrong?" I ask her.

"Nothing's wrong," she says. "But, I think we've found some food." She points to a bush of berries. I forget the name of them, but I do remember that they're edible.

"Brilliant, Lynette!" I say. "But where are we going to put them?"

"I guess we'll have to store them in our pockets," she says.

After ten minutes of picking, the bush becomes bare. Our pockets bulging, we continue walking through the forest. "So where do you think we should make camp?" Lynette asks.

"I think a tree would be best," I say. "We're both good at climbing."

In about half an hour, we find the perfect tree. It's very wide, with lots of branches. It also has plenty of leaves, which will hide us from predators (meaning the careers). We climb up, until we're about fifteen feet above the ground, and rest on a branch. We snack on berries as we watch the sun dance across the sky. This spot will suffice, for a little while.

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

I have decided to stay in a tree on the edge of the cliff. It's obvious that most of the action will happen near the cornucopia, on the lower level. That lake is probably the only source of water. So, the other tributes will have to sneak down for water. Also, the feast will probably be held down there. Yes, the closer I am to everything, the better off I'll be. I'll learn my opponents' strengths and weaknesses. I'll figure out how to trick them; how to manipulate them. I'll also be closer to water, myself. I'm not counting on many sponsors, myself, so I'll have to sneak down, during the night, to scoop up some water. There's plenty of jugs scattered around the grass that I can use to hold the water. I'm just hoping I won't be spotted by the careers. That will be a certain end to my life.

Since the bloodbath, about three hours ago, the careers haven't done much. They've just milled around the cornucopia, sorting through supplies and weapons. However, they've just assembled in a huddle near the cornucopia. When they break the huddle, the District Four tributes sit back down, looking disappointed, while the District One and Two tributes grab their weapons and head towards the cliff. I see what they're doing; they're going tribute hunting. As they climb the cliff, I duck low, on my branch. However, once the careers have climbed up and over the cliff, they blow right by me. They probably don't expect anyone to hide so close to their base. That's another great thing about my tree on the edge of the cliff; no one would think to look for me here. They'd expect everyone to be hidden deep in the woods; as furthest away from the careers as possible. Well, after I've stolen their supplies multiple times, they'll realize that they should've looked harder for me.

**Jorge Mosley (D7 M 15)**

I have been searching for a sufficient shelter for hours, but have found nothing. I immediately figured out that a tree won't work. I can't climb one to save my life. I haven't been able to find any caves as well, so I'm stuck wandering around for another option.

All of a sudden, a twig snaps behind me. I freeze in my tracks, and slowly turn around. "Hello, little boy. Time for you to die!" It's the careers. All four of them glare at me with menacing looks on their faces. And I do the only logical thing I can think of; I run.

As I dash through the woods, arrows and knives whiz past my face. As I run, I realize that this is the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. As I dash away, I hear the careers' taunting voices behind me. I block out what they're saying, but I'm sure it can't be good. And as I run away from the careers, I do the stupidest thing someone could do in this situation; I trip over a root.

I fall to the ground, and my ankle makes a sickening crack. Pain shoots through my nerves, and I realize that I'm done for. The careers finally catch up to me as I lay on the ground, unable to move. "Well, what do we have here?" taunts one of the boys. I think he's the one from District Two. "You're from District Seven, aren't you? Answer me!" He loudly shouts the words at me, but I'm too in pain to answer. The boy notices my ankle. "Yes, it hurts, doesn't it? Well don't worry; I can make it better!" The boy plunges his machete into my ankle.

The pain intensifies to such a high level, I nearly pass out. I scream at the top of my lungs, and take a look at my ankle. I vomit when I realize that my foot has nearly been severed from my foot. "Make it end," I plead through the agony and the tears. "Death can't be any worse than this."

"If you say so," the boy says. As he plunges the machete into my chest, my vision starts to turn black, and the pain begins to go away. 'If this is dying, it's not so bad,' I think to myself. I feel as if I'm floating away from everything, in my own little world, and I know, that I'm beyond where the boy from District Two can hurt me. I'm safe now.

"Boom."

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

I left the bloodbath with absolutely no supplies. I managed to get to the top of the cliff without getting killed, but I had no idea where to go from there. I ended up just wandering around the forest, looking for food and water. I haven't found any water, but I have gotten a hold of some berries. They keep me hydrated enough to continue walking, but they won't last forever. If I don't get any real water in the next day or so, I can kiss my life goodbye.

The lake is the only place that seems to hold water. I doubt I can count on sponsors. If my mentor gets any money for sponsorship, he'll obviously use it on Piper. She's got a much better chance of winning than me. She's very intelligent, but slightly athletic as well. Yes, if I want water, I'll have to get it from the lake.

For the past few hours, I've been pondering different ways to get to that water. I've come up with three possible solutions. I could wait for all of them to go tribute hunting. Or, I could create a diversion; maybe start a fire or something. Then, they'd all check out the source of the smoke while I seize some water. I could also wait until night, and sneak down under the cover of darkness. However, I'll have to be really stealthy if I want to do that. One misstep onto a fallen twig could alert the careers of my presence, and end my life.

I'm hoping I'll find some water soon. That would be a huge relief. If not, I'll have to rely on one of those three options I've cooked up. I'm also hoping to find a sufficient shelter soon. If I can't, I'll be forced to sleep out in the open. That will make me very vulnerable, and I'm feeling too vulnerable as it is.

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

I grip my bow tightly as Ciera and I walk through the forest. I'm glad that Ciera grabbed me it. During the bloodbath, against her mentor's advice, she sprinted towards the cornucopia and grabbed a blue bag, a bow, twelve arrows, and a slingshot. In the bag, we found a blanket, night vision goggles, some rope, and a pack of two dozen matches. Although we didn't get any food or water, the bag did contain some helpful supplies. Also, Ciera's been able to point out some trees that have edible nuts growing on them. However, we haven't found any water, any my body's starting to feel the effects of dehydration. My throat is pretty dry, and I've developed a slight headache. The nuts haven't helped in either of those cases.

As we continue our hike, I spot a bush of edible berries that Violet taught me how to identify. Violet. Just thinking about her name makes me feel sad; and slightly guilty. Ciera and I kind of abandoned her at the bloodbath; I ran towards the cliff, and Ciera collected the supplies and weapons. I realized she was dead about halfway up the cliff. I had peeked over my shoulder, looking for Violet and Ciera. Ciera looked fine; she was currently scrambling up the cliff. But the sight of Violet nearly made me loose my breakfast. I didn't spot who killed her, but I'm guessing it was one of the careers. None of the other tributes would mutilate her body that much. Not on purpose, at least.

As we continue to wander, I spot the sun setting in the distance. Ciera and I had better find some shelter quick. "Do you think we should climb a tree?" I ask.

"Sure," Ciera replies. "I've climbed plenty of trees in my lifetime." That makes sense. She is from District Seven. With Ciera's help, I pull myself up, into the protection of the branches. She soon joins me; over ten feet above the ground. We settle down and munch on a few nuts, waiting for the Panem Anthem. Finally, it starts. The first face shown belongs to the boy from District Three. No surprises there. Next comes the boy from District Five, followed by Ciera's district partner. She never really talked about him, but from what I remember, he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Next comes the boy from District Eight. I don't remember that much about him. He's followed by the girl from District Ten. I remember her; she was only twelve, although she looked like she was nearly my age. She's followed by both District Twelve tributes (once again, no surprises there). I'm surprised that only seven tributes were killed in the first day. Usually it's much more than that. The Panem Anthem ends, and Ciera offers to take first watch. I cuddle up in our blanket, and fall asleep.

_**The Fallen (1):**_

**Jorge Mosley (D7 M 15)**

Killed by Mars. He was pursued by careers, and tripped, letting them catch up. After receiving a severe ankle injury, a machete was run through his heart.

_**Remaining Tributes (17):**_

D1:

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

**Smoky Willis (D1 M 18)**

D2:

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

D3:

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

D4:

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

**Hull Weast (D4 M 17)**

D5:

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

D6:

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

**Troy Ross (D6 M 15)**

D7:

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

D8:

**Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)**

D9:

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

D10:

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

D11:

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

_**Kills:**_

**Mars:** Violet, Alfred, Jorge

**Gemma**: Savannah

**Lexiana**: Eli

**Troy:** Geoffrey

**Levi:** Jonas

**_Alliances_:**

**Gemma/Smoky/Lexiana/Mars/Seabrook/Hull**

**Noel/Lynette**

**Kat/Ciera**

**Carmen/Roland**

**Jillian**

**Troy**

**Levi**

**Piper**

**Thurmond**

**Day Two will begin at midnight, when the zombies strike! :-)**


	14. Chapter 14: Day Two

**Day Two:**

**Smoky Wills (D1 M 18)**

Gemma and I have the pleasure of taking first watch tonight. As I sit outside the tent, gazing at the stars, I wonder how my family's doing at home. They were very excited when my trainer at the academy announced I was ready to volunteer. I bet they're still pretty proud of me; even though I only got a nine in training.

I look over at Gemma, who's just staring into space. I wonder what she's thinking. Maybe she's regretting her choice to volunteer. She has to know that I'm obviously going to win. I'd be pretty scared right now, if I were the other tributes. However, I'm not the other tributes, so I'll enjoy watching them scream in pain as I deliver the death blow.

Suddenly, a crunching sound interrupts my thoughts. It's coming from near the cornucopia. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was a group of tributes, coming to take supplies. However, I know they're not that stupid to make so much noise. So, it's probably an animal digging through our supplies. Maybe a bear, or a large raccoon. I decide to go investigate the sound. I grab my spear, and walk over to the cornucopia.

As I walk over, chills creep down my spine. I don't spot any animals. Then, all of a sudden, I find myself face to face with the girl from District Twelve. Wait a minute; Mars killed her. Then I notice that something else is wrong. Her skin has a bluish greenish tint to it. She's covered in welts and blood from head to toe. I suddenly realize what's happening. She's a zombie; coming to take revenge on Mars.

Quick as a flash, I plunge my spear into her chest. I pull it out, but to my dismay, she doesn't collapse or die or anything. She just pulls out a knife, and slashes away. As I deflect her slashes, I give her some injuries that would surely kill a regular person. "Die, you stupid zombie!" I shout, frustrated. However, before I can make another kill attempt, a knife flies into the zombie's head, and she collapses to the ground.

I whirl around, and spot Gemma standing there, knives in her hand. "The head," she says. "That's their weakest point." How she figured that out, I don't know, but it certainly helps once four more zombies clamber out of the cornucopia, heading towards us. I'm standing nearest the boy's tent, so the zombie boys from Three and Seven limp towards me. Now that I know their weak spot, they're both down in less than a minute. One manages to give me a small cut on my right wrist, but it's nothing life-threatening. I look over at Gemma, who has taken down the zombie boy from Twelve. She hesitates before attacking the girl from District Ten; probably because Gemma's the one who killed her. However, in no time at all, the zombie has a knife in her head.

For a second or two, Gemma seems to have a pained expression on her face, like she feels guilty for killing the girl from Ten earlier today. However, the expression disappears so fast, that I probably just imagined it. She smiles and says,"That was fun. Let's wake up Lexiana and Mars so they can take watch."

"Mars won't like that," I say.

"Mars doesn't like anything," Gemma says. "Unless it involves killing, or seriously injuring tributes. He'll be sad he missed the zombie wave." She looks over at the cliff. Two zombies are slowly making their way up, seeking out their victim. If I remember right, they'll represent the boys from Districts Five and Eight. Well, two tributes will get quite a surprise tonight.

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

I lay on my tree branch, unable to fall asleep. I'm surprised I was able to climb up here. I'm surprised I survived the bloodbath. I'm surprised Alfred gave his life for me. As you can tell, I've been surprised by a lot lately. But I'm most surprised by what I encounter next.

Suddenly, the sinister sound of a snapping twig surprises me. I slowly look down, trembling in fear. I nearly jump out of my skin when I notice it's a tribute boy; I think he's from District Five. Thankfully, I don't think he's noticed me. He's just limping forward. But, when he steps into the moonlight, my heart races, and I nearly scream for the second time in thirty seconds. His clothes are bloody and mangled. He's covered in welts and rotting flesh. He's a zombie. With all the surprises that have happened today, I've completely forgotten about the Quell. I guess that will work to my advantage. However, the images of that zombie will be implanted in my brain for as long as I live (which, in fact, may not be that long).

As I watch the zombie trudge deeper in the woods, I'm more glad than ever that I won't have to fight it. I can't look at it, let alone try to kill it. I wonder who the zombie's hunting for. It don't know who killed them boy from District Five. It can't be any of the careers, but that still leaves ten possibilities.

Suddenly, a scream pierces the silence of the woods. It definitely belongs to a boy. It doesn't sound that far away from me. Maybe the zombie found its mark. In another few seconds, I hear a cannon. A hovercraft appears, and picks up a body, less than a quarter than a mile away from me. I think it's the boy from District Six. From what I remember observing at training, he was certainly capable of killing someone. It's definitely plausible that he was killed by a zombie.

As I try to fall asleep, I try to put the zombie out of my head. I need to focus on getting sleep. After all, I'll need to find some food tomorrow. I've had nothing to eat today, except breakfast. I guess it helps that I barely had one meal per day at the community home. But I know I won't be able to last forever. I try to think of peaceful thoughts, although I have nearly none. Eventually, I drift into sleep.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

I lay in my cave, wondering who that cannon blast was for, fifteen minutes ago. It jerked me out of my sleep, which kind of annoyed me, at the time. But then, I realized that it's got to be past midnight. Pretty soon, I'll be attacked by a zombie. Maybe that's how the past tribute died; because of a zombie. Well whoever died, they may have saved my life, because I'm sure my zombie will be here in a matter of minutes. I walk outside of my cave, and wait for it.

Finally, he arrives. I didn't think the zombie would look this creepy, with rotting, greenish flesh, and only one eye. Even though he's misshapen and covered in blood, I can still tell it's the boy from District Eight. The thought that this may be the body of the boy I killed unhinges me a bit, but I know I can kill him, nevertheless.

Using my axe, I swipe away at the zombie boy. Not even bothering to look, I make multiple injuries all over his body. I even end up chopping half of his arm off. However, he doesn't collapse to the ground. Not until I embed my axe in his head does he fall to the ground and die. At least, I'm assuming he's dead. I wait thirty minutes to go back to bed, just in case the zombie decides to jump back up and attack me. Nothing happens, which surprises me. I wonder what will happen to his body. Will he be sucked up by a hovercraft or something after I fall asleep, or will his body remain there? I guess I'll find out tomorrow. I close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

I wake up to see Kat munching on a mixture of nuts and berries. "Morning," she says. "Do you want some?"

"Are you sure they're edible?" I ask.

"Positive," Kat replies. "I've been munching on them for hours."

"Okay," I say, taking some nuts and berries and stuffing them into my mouth. "Have you found any water?" I ask, as the dry nuts irritate my mouth.

"Nope," she says. "Sorry. I just haven't been able to find any."

"That's fine," I say. "At least we have these berries; they keep us hydrated enough to live. But I'm starting to get a headache."

"Me too," Kat adds. "Do you think our sponsors will send us anything?"

"I doubt it," I reply. However, much to my surprise, at that moment, a silver parachute floats down to us. "I guess I spoke too soon," I say. Kat laughs. The parachute holds two water bottles, which will last us through the day. As much as I want to gulp down the whole bottle, I know I need to conserve as much as possible. I make sure to take only tiny sips. I drink about a fourth of my bottle. It takes all of my self control to twist the lid back on. My throat still begs and cries for moisture, but I know I'll be glad that I saved it, later today. Kat drinks about a fourth of her bottle as well. We stuff both of then back in my bag.

"So what now?" Kat asks.

"We should probably continue hunting for water, just in case there is some up here in the woods."

"Sounds good," says Kat. Kat grabs her bow and arrow, and I grab my bag and slingshot. I've collected a handful of pointy rocks to use as ammo. We climb down, and begin our search.

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

Last night, as I wandered through the woods, I came across the pair from District Nine. Deciding it might be a helpful strategy, I decided to start following them. So far, it has certainly worked to my advantage. Last night, as they were sleeping, I stole a few sips of water from them. (They received three bottles last night, as a sponsor gift, before bed.) They haven't noticed anything.

Right now, they're walking through the woods, hunting for food. I'm following, about twenty-five yards behind them. Although I'm not too light on my feet, I only weigh a hundred pounds, so I don't make an excessive amount of noise. I watch as a squirrel scurries in front of them. The girl (Carmen, I think) spears it. She hands it over to the boy, (who I believe is named Roland) who pockets it. After another half hour, the girl kills another squirrel. Soon after that, she spears a third. The pair make a fire to cook the squirrels. As they make it, I think about how I could make the fire better. Their wood structure could be completely improved by a few simple steps. Nevertheless, using their matches, they have a fire started in seconds. The fatty aroma of roasting squirrels quickly fills the air. My mouth waters as I long for the squirrel. Although I've found ample nuts, berries, and roots, I haven't had any meat. I'll have to snatch some from their bag tonight, if there's any left.

Once the squirrels have been cooked to a delectable golden brown, they each munch on one. The third goes in a bag. The tributes stamp out the fire until it's reduced to ashes. Then, they continue walking. I soon realize that they're heading back towards their cave. I collect some more berries as I follow them back. They clamber back into their cave, and I climb back into my tree. I sit there and munch on my berries; wishing I had some water to wash them down.

**Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)**

Noel and I have been fairing pretty well today. We've drank about a third of the water in the jug, during these past two days. If we keep going by this rate, we'll have enough water for almost four more days. If we both make it that far, we'll have to rely on sponsorship for water, because the lake is probably the arena's only source of water, and it would be suicide to travel down there. Though, if we get lucky, maybe the careers will have decreased in number by that time. Personally, I'm hoping for that option.

All Noel and I have done today is search for food. We didn't encounter anyone, so the forest must be pretty large. All of our jacket and pants pockets are stuffed with nuts and berries, and we've had enough to eat. The Gamemakers have been pretty generous with food, for some reason. Noel and I have found plenty of food. It's not nearly the amount or variety we got back at the Capitol, but it's about the same amount I got on an average day in District Eight.

I haven't heard any cannon blasts today. Usually, there's a bunch on the second day. I think the average number is about two or three. Although, I could have missed one while I was asleep. Truthfully, I'm hoping for more cannon blasts. It would be great if everyone was killed off before I had to step in. I don't plan to kill anyone, though I do want to win. I realize that that's not the best strategy, but I absolutely refuse to kill. Judging by the position of the sun, it's about four in the afternoon, so there's still plenty of time for more deaths. Hopefully, I won't be involved in any additional deaths, today. Hopefully, I won't be involved in any deaths in the arena.

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

The careers haven't done much today. They went out to tribute hunt for a few hours, after lunch, but besides that, nothing interesting has happened. Even though it's hard to hear what they're saying, it's obvious that they're flirting, laughing, and having a great time. It's sick. They're here enjoying themselves while the rest of us struggle. I want to do something about it, but I don't have the strength or courage. However, I may be able to outwit them.

I soon realize I can't focus on defeating the careers. I need to focus on my needs; meaning water. I got a bottle last night, as a sponsor gift, but I know I can't rely on many more. Tonight, I plan to sneak down to snatch some water. There's a bunch of jugs lying on the ground, near the cornucopia. I think, under the cover of darkness, I may be able to grab a jug. That would give me water for a week, if used carefully.

Two hours later, I get ready to put my plan in place. The Panem Anthem plays, and the face of the boy from District Six is revealed. He must of died last night. The cannon blast had woken me up. Anyways, I watch as the District One and Two careers climb into the tents while the District Four careers take watch. Their tents are located left of the cornucopia, and the tributes are facing the lake. This means I can sneak down to the cornucopia without being seen. I suck up my courage and climb down from the tree. Then, I begin my descent down the cliff face.

As I climb down, I try to make the least amount of sound. The District Four tributes look like they're talking. Hopefully, they'll keep talking, because that makes them less likely to turn around. When I'm about halfway down, I slip and almost fall, but I'm able to catch myself before anything bad happens. After what seems like forever, I reach the ground. I quietly hurry towards a jug of water. The careers have all the bags piled up near their tents, so I don't go there, but I do grab a length of rope that's lying near the water jug. Using the rope, I tie the jug to my back and head back for the cliff.

In my opinion, it's a lot easier to climb up the cliff. As I pull myself over the ledge, I turn to look down at the careers. Both District Four tributes are still facing the lake. Since I'm so far away, I can't tell if they're talking. When I climb back into my tree, I finish the last of my sponsor gift. When I'm done, I hide the bottle in a nook in the tree. Using my new rope, I tie myself to the branch. I almost fell out yesterday so this rope will give me added support. I don't have a sleeping bag or a blanket, so I tuck my fingers into my pockets and fall asleep.

_**The Fallen (1):**_

**Troy Ross (D6 M 15)**

Killed by a zombie. The zombie snuck up on him in the middle of the night and slit his throat.

_**Remaining Tributes (16):**_

D1:

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

**Smoky Willis (D1 M 18)**

D2:

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

D3:

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

D4:

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

**Hull Weast (D4 M 17)**

D5:

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

D6:

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

D7:

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

D8:

**Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)**

D9:

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

D10:

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

D11:

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

_**Kills:**_

**Mars:** Violet, Alfred, Jorge

**Gemma:** Savannah

**Lexiana:** Eli

**Troy:** Geoffrey

**Levi:** Jonas

_**Alliances:**_

**Gemma/Smoky/Lexiana/Mars/Seabrook/Hull**

**Noel/Lynette**

**Kat/Ciera**

**Carmen/Roland**

**Jillian**

**Levi**

**Piper**

**Thurmond**

**So, track starts next week, meaning I'll have less time to write. :-( Only expect about one chapter per week (two if you're lucky). I'm sorry, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. I'm very busy in the spring. Anyways, thanks for reading, and please review to let me know who your favorite tribute(s) is/are! :-)**


	15. Chapter 15: Day Three

**Day Three:**

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

I sit outside the girls' tent, waiting for the zombies to attack. I have already loaded my bow, and am ready to strike at a moment's notice. Gemma and Smoky have already explained to Hull and I how to kill the zombies; go straight for the head. It doesn't seem that hard, but honestly, Hull didn't even look like he cared. Something's unusual about him. He doesn't have any brain cells, for a first. And, he just doesn't respect other people; including his allies. He just does his own thing, whether anyone agrees with him or not.

Yesterday, at dawn, the zombies' bodies disappeared. They just dissolved into thin air. I guess they can't handle sunlight. That's good, because I wouldn't appreciate looking at a mountain of bodies each morning. We wouldn't be able to dump them in the lake, but that would poison our water supply. We do have ample water from the backpacks, but it'll run out eventually, if the Games take too long.

I suddenly hear the sound of shuffling feet coming from near the cornucopia. "Get ready," I whisper to Hull. He just scowls and nods. I stand up and walk towards the mouth of the cornucopia. I grasp my bow in my hands; ready to fire at a moment's notice. Suddenly, a zombie pops out. They're even more gruesome than Gemma described. Their flesh is rotten and bloody, bones stick out at random angles, and the smell coming from them makes me gag. Before bothering to look who the zombie is, I shoot him in the head. Once he falls, I realize that he's the boy from District Three. Another zombie limps out; the boy from District Twelve. He gets an arrow to the head. Two more shuffle out; the boy from Seven and the girl from Twelve. I take the girl while Hull takes the boy. Finally; he's stopped just standing there. I fire an arrow at the girl, but it misses; just barely. My second arrow hits her in the chest, so she still carries on. The third finally pierces her head, and she falls to the ground. I look over at Hull, who's still trying to kill the boy zombie. He's slashing away with his trident, but nothing's happening. "Go for the head!" I shout. "Remember?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Hull shouts as he continues to slash away at the chest. Now, it looks like he's deliberately avoiding the head to prove me wrong. What an idiot. I'm about to show him how it's done, when two more zombies shuffle out. One is the boy from Eight. I ignore him, because a non-career killed him. Sure enough, that zombie heads for the cliff and starts climbing up. I'm actually surprised that the zombies can manage to climb up that. However, I turn my thoughts away from that because the second zombie is coming out; the girl from District Ten. This time, it takes two arrows to hit her in the head. When I do, I sigh in relief, because the zombies have stopped coming out. I've completely forgotten about Hull. That is, until I hear the cannon blast.

I whip around. Hull is lying on the ground as the zombie pulls a knife out of his chest. Judging by his wounds, he's obviously dead. Hull's trident lays on the ground; about ten feet away from him. It looks like he tried to throw it at the zombie, but missed, and then was attacked. Defenseless, he was easily killed by the zombie. I almost feel bad for Hull, but then remember he refused to listen to me, and never went for the zombie's head. I send my last arrow through the head of the zombie, and then run into the girls' tent.

When I climb in, I can already feel myself losing consciousness from exhaustion. I quickly wake up Lexiana and Gemma. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I mumble, "Zombies attacked. Killed them all. Hull dead. Take watch." Then I collapse into my sleeping bag.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

I sit and wait for the zombie to attack. I wait, and I wait, and I wait. I've decided to stay awake until the zombie attacks me. That way, it won't catch me while I'm sleeping. Maybe, that's what happened to the boy who died last night. Maybe that's what happened to the tribute who died an hour ago. Nevertheless, I'm prepared for the zombie tonight. My axe in hand, I watch as the zombie stumbles through the woods, towards my cave. Time for action.

Once the zombie gets close enough, I take a swipe at him with my axe. It misses the top of his head by an inch. The zombie slashes at me with his knife, and I have to duck and roll to dodge it. My axe clatters to the ground. The zombie shuffles in between the axe and I. Now I'm weaponless, defenseless, and in trouble. My mind forms a crazy plan that probably won't work, but I have to try something.

I suck up my courage and dive between the zombie's legs. Just as I hoped, the zombie becomes dumbfounded. I grab my axe, turn around, and swing my axe at the back of the zombie's head. He thuds to the ground, and I know that he's dead. Well, that was fun. I climb back into my cave and close my eyes. I need to get some sleep before tomorrow. Pretty soon, the sounds of the forest lull me to sleep.

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

The bright sun rises; giving me a headache. Great; add that to the list of problems I've been having. I recount the list in my head: no food, no water, no supplies, and dizzy moments. I have gotten a little food my eating some nuts and berries, but I'm not even entirely sure they were all edible. Hiding behind the poisonous berry station, I did accidentally pick up some pointers, but they're not nearly enough. The only hydration I've gotten was from the berries, which certainly isn't enough. If things don't pick up, I'll be dead by tomorrow.

I decide to wander around the woods in search of food or water. Although my vision spins and sometimes turns a bit black, I find a bush of blue berries soon. I'm 75 percent certain they're the ones from yesterday, so I grab a handful and shove them in my mouth. I breath a sigh of relief. They're really juicy and filling, and don't seem to be poisonous.

An hour later, I'm starting to feel better. I find two more bushes of the blue berries, and eat them all. Thank Panem they weren't poisonous. I'm feeling less dizzy, and my vision has cleared. My head has also stopped pounding as fiercely. Although I'm not feeling wonderful, I'm feeling twice as good as I did earlier. Maybe I will survive for a few more days. That is, if I can get my hands on more of those berries.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

My feet ache as we continue to walk, and I reposition the water jug on my back. Lynette and I have decided to travel to a different part of the forest, today. All of the berry bushes near our old tree have been picked bare, so we need a new spot. Since we've been walking all morning, I suggest that we stop. I can already see a few edible berry bushes. And that's when everything goes wrong.

We hear them before we see them; their loud, taunting voices and demonic laughter. I look behind me, and see the careers strolling through the woods. _'Run!'_ I mouth to Lynette. Unfortunately, we don't get a very big head start. Turning around, I see that the careers have spotted us and are running towards us.

"Why are you running from us?" one of the careers says. I think he's from District Two. "We're going to catch up to you!" I want to shout something sarcastic back at him, but I'm too frightened and out of breath. My lungs and thighs burn, but I keep running. I have to survive. I have to keep going. That's when I realize that Lynette's no longer running by my side.

I turn around to see her sprawled on the ground. It looks like she's twisted an ankle. "Lynette!" I shout. I stop running and turn towards her as the careers continue to advance.

"Go, Noel!" Lynette shouts through tears. "Save yourself! Don't worry about me! You can win this, I know you can! Now run!" As hard as it is, I turn away and continue running. Deep down, I know that Lynette is right. With a twisted ankle, she's a gonner. If I try to help her, I'll die too.

A minute later, Lynette's screams pierce the air. A cannon blast shortly follows her screams. At least they made it fast. I don't know how long I run for. Maybe thirty minutes, maybe two hours. I just know that I don't stop until I collapse from exhaustion and despair. I lay on the ground, weeping, until drowsiness overcomes me.

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

Stupid Lexiana! She killed the girl before I could! Now she's only got one less kill than me! I'll have to step up my game, and kill tributes before my stupid allies can. I need to have the highest kill list. That will get me more fans, which will make them happiest when I win. It will also get me more sponsors if the career pack splits.

I look over at Lexiana and Seabrook, who are examining the girl. (Gemma and Smoky are back at the cornucopia.) "She's from District Eight," Seabrook says. I don't see why it matters. "So who's left, besides us?" Seabrook asks.

"There's the girls from Districts Three, Five, Six, and Seven, the boy from Ten, and both from Nine and Eleven," Gemma answers quickly. She must have the list memorized. I don't see why. They're all going to be dead soon, whether they're alive now or not.

"So what now?" Seabrook asks.

"We should keep going," I reply. "It's around lunchtime now, so we can eat some food from our packs. Then, we keep hunting."

I find a nice boulder to sit on, and the girls do the same. I pull a water bottle, a can of soup, and a package of crackers out of my backpack. I'm very glad they supplied soup at the cornucopia. It's one of my favorite non-expensive, plebeian foods. My second favorite is pizza, but since that'll go bad after a few days, I don't blame the Gamemakers for not supplying it. After all, once I win, I'll have more pizza than I know what to do with.

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

Lately, I've had a feeling that someone's following us. In more than one occasion, I've heard a twig snap, behind Roland and I. Also, when I woke up, this morning, a water bottle and a roasted squirrel were missing from our bag. I've explained my suspicions to Roland, but he hasn't taken them too seriously. "We probably just dropped them," Roland has said. "Relax; we're fine."

That's one thing Roland has; plenty of optimism. I've noticed that he can turn any bad situation into a better one. I haven't yet decided if that's a good thing or not. It certainly makes me feel better, but I don't want to become too optimistic to the point that I'm not suspicious. My dad always told me to embrace my suspicions; they could save my life. So, I continue to wonder if someone's following us.

I spot a chipmunk on the ground. With a flick of my spear, it's dead. I run over to it, and pick it up my the tail. "Lunch," I say to Roland, a smile on my face.

"Well, you're the boss, Chef Carmen," Roland says. "I'll prepare for a five star meal."

"Very funny," I joke. "Now go get some firewood, or there'll be no five star meal for you."

I don't know why, but being with Roland makes me feel like I'm with a real friend. I didn't have much of those, back with District Nine. I think some kids intimidated by me, being that my father is a victor. Many of them seemed very nice, but they refused to approach me. I found myself hanging out with wilder, trouble-causing kids. They though I was just like them. But I hated them all. So, whenever I could, I hung out by myself; stuck to my training.

Roland is different from them all. He's by no means intimidated by me. He respects me, and understands who I really am. I guess that's why I agreed to be his ally. Unlike many others, he really gets me, and I'm grateful for that.

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

I hold my breath as the careers walk by. Just like every other time, they don't notice me. As they climb down the cliff, I decide that it's about five in the afternoon. That means, time for dinner. I take a swig from my water jug, and then pull handfuls of berries out of my pockets. I have a few nuts and roots as well. I guess being from District Eleven does come in handy, once in a while. I've survived for three days on food from only the wilderness. Hopefully, I'll get to survive for a few more.

I watch as the three tributes who were out hunting meet up with the careers from District One. According to what I've witnessed all day, the boy from District Four died last night. I'm a heavy sleeper, so I must have slept right through the cannon. Maybe, one of those zombies killed him. I can't decide if that's reasonable because I haven't seen the zombies in action, yet. I have no intention of staying up late to watch them. Besides, according to my mentor's knowledge, zombies aren't the most beautiful of mutts. I think I prefer to sleep while the careers fight them.

As I sit on my tree branch, thinking, I wonder if any tributes have gotten a sponsor gift. I haven't, but I don't need one. After all, I have food, water, and a kinda-shelter, so I'm good. I don't believe that any of the careers have gotten one, but they don't need them anyways. Besides that, I'm left to guess at who else got one. Many tributes are probably short on water. If I had to guess, I'd say there's no water sources in the woods. That's probably a common sponsor gift. The Gamemakers have been generous with the amount of plants in the wilderness, so no one should need food, unless they've can't identify berries. So, besides water, I wonder what everyone else needs. Fortunately, I need nothing, which probably won't be the case for long.

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

Ciera and I are nearly out of water. We've only got a few sips left in our bottles, so I'm feeling the effects of dehydration. My dry, cracked lips begs for water, and my head feels like it's in a meat grinder. Ciera doesn't look much better. Her skin's starting to get a greenish tinge to it, and her exhaustion looks like it's growing.

I nearly faint from the joy of seeing a parachute floating towards Ciera and I. I catch it, hoping for enough water to sustain us for a few days. And what do I find? One lousy bottle. Great. Now our mentors don't even have enough money to send us more than one bottle. We're only on day three of the Hunger Games. Surely, the sponsor gift prices can't be that high already, can they?

I take a sip of the water first. It's the best feeling I've felt in a while. The cold liquid washes over my tongue, but a second later, it's been swallowed up by my throat. My tongue begs for more, but I hand the bottle over to Ciera. I can see the relief in her face as she gulps down a little water. For a few more minutes, we alternate taking sips of the water. Too late, I realize that two thirds of the water is gone. "We should save the rest for tomorrow," I say. Ciera nods.

Since my throat begs for more moisture, I fish a few berries out of my pocket. They're not as refreshing as the water, but they're still much better than the nuts. We've kind of abandoned eating those. They leave our mouths too dry. As I eat the berries, I gaze over at the sun, which is sinking below the tree line. Hopefully, at this time tomorrow, we'll be in better shape.

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

I've decided to ditch the District Nine tributes. The girl, Carmen, had begun to realize I that I was following them. I couldn't take any chances. Those two could kill me with a flick of their wrists. So, I left a few hours ago.

All I have is a water bottle (half drunken) and a handful of berries. They won't last long, though I know I'll be able to restock on berries. There are plenty in the forest. Water will be the real problem. I can't count on sponsors for water, and traveling down to the lake would be suicide, so I've either got to find an ally or another source of water. Neither seem likely.

Just as I start to figure out where I'm going to sleep tonight, the Panem Anthem begins. I first see the face of the boy from District Four. Wow, that's a shocker. He's a career. I wonder how he died. I next see the girl from District Eight. I don't remember much about her, but I believe she was allied with the girl from District Five. I wonder how she's doing without her ally.

The anthem fades away, leaving me to wonder how many tributes are left. Fourteen, I think. The Games have gotten off to a pretty slow start this year. Usually, half of the tributes are gone by the end of the first day. It's a very unusual year. I find a thick clump of bushes. I can sleep in these. I lie down and cover myself with leaves and branches. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll find some water tomorrow.

_**The Fallen (2):**_

**Hull Weast (D4 M 17)**

Killed by a zombie. He refused to stab the zombie's head to prove a point, so the zombie eventually stabbed him with its knife.

**Lynette Shultz (D8 F 14)**

Killed by Lexiana. She was chased by careers, but tripped. Once they caught up, Lexiana stabbed her with her sword.

_**Remaining Tributes (14):**_

D1:

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

**Smoky Willis (D1 M 18)**

D2:

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

D3:

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

D4:

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

D5:

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

D6:

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

D7:

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

D9:

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

D10:

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

D11:

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

_**Kills:**_

**Mars:** Violet, Alfred, Jorge

**Lexiana:** Eli, Lynette

**Gemma:** Savannah

**Troy:** Geoffrey

**Levi:** Jonas

_**Alliances:**_

**Gemma/Smoky/Lexiana/Mars/Seabrook**

**Kat/Ciera**

**Carmen/Roland**

**Jillian**

**Noel**

**Levi**

**Piper**

**Thurmond**

**Thanks for reading! Day Four will be up in about a week. Please review to tell me your favorite character(s)! :-)**


	16. Chapter 16: Day Four

**Day Four:**

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

The zombies shuffle out of the cornucopia. I completely forgot about them. But, now that I'm up, I decide to watch them. Since I'm so far away, I can't see exactly what the zombies look like. However, I'm sure they're not too pretty. That makes me kind of happy that I can't see them properly.

The pair from District Two, who are apparently keeping watch, confront the zombies. There are seven zombies in total, but only six head towards the careers. The other one limps towards the cliff, and starts climbing up. I wonder who it's going to fetch. I know the pair from District Nine, are capable of killing, but I don't know about any others.

The District Two tributes start swinging their weapons at the zombies. The boy has a machete, while the girl holds a sword. It's obvious that they've spent a lot of time training with each other. Their moves are synchronized, and they work well together. Within a matter of minutes, all six zombies lie in a heap on the ground. The careers wipe off their weapons, and sit back down, continuing to take watch.

Now that the zombie-killing career show is over, I begin to focus on myself. I'm set with water, but I'll need to collect some more food tomorrow. Besides that, all I need is some sleep. I tie my rope around me so that I won't fall off of the branch. I remember seeing tributes do that in past years. I close my eyes, and slowly let drowsiness overcome me.

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

I finally run my axe into the zombie's head. I'm starting to become tired of fighting it every night. That's the most challenging thing the Gamemakers have thrown at me, so I'm beginning to think they're mocking me. I haven't even run into any other tributes either. I would go hunting for them, but if the career alliance is still together, they'd overpower me without trying. I know the boy from District Four is dead, but the other five are still out there. However, I don't know what condition they're in.

Once morning hits, I think I'll wander a little further away from my cave than usual. And, maybe I'll stay out longer too. Usually I just go out to search for food. I get water from sponsors. Maybe I'll do a little more wandering; see what's out there; and who's out there.

If I want to do all this tomorrow, I'll need to get some sleep tonight. I climb back into my cave. I've done a lot of work on it during the last few days, so I don't want to leave. The ground is covered in moss, and a layer of vines cover the entrance. My sleeping bag lies on the moss. It's actually a pretty comfortable shelter, as Hunger Games shelters go. I'm pretty proud of it. I climb into my sleeping bag and close my eyes. Hopefully, the morning will bring me something exciting.

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

I wake up and immediately feel the effects of dehydration return. I immediately crave sleep, but the rising sun's bright light won't let me fall back asleep. Since Kat was keeping watch, she's already awake. "Did we get any sponsor gifts?" Just this simple sentence makes my dry lips crack, putting the taste of blood into my mouth.

"Nope," Kat says. I groan. Do our mentors honestly think we can survive too long without water? We've each got a swig of water left in our bottles; for emergencies. I pull a handful of berries out of my pockets. Stuffing them down my throat, their juicy texture gives my mouth temporary relief. However, once I swallow them, my mouth feels like it's on fire again.

All of a sudden, Kat lets out a loud shriek. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"Look," she replies as she points into the sky. For a second I think I'm hallucinating. But, when Kat grabs the parachute in her hands, I know it's real. Hopefully, our mentors have supplied us with plenty of water. However, when Kat looks into the basket, she frowns.

"Now what's wrong?" I ask.

"Well," she begins, "the only thing in here is this metal tubey thing." There's plenty of disappointment in her voice as she holds up the little tool. However, when I see it, I become so excited that I nearly fall out of the tree.

"That's not just a metal tubey thing," I say. "It's a spile!"

"A what?"

"A spile! Back in District Seven, we used to use them to get syrup out of our maple trees. But when you insert them in the right tree, you get..."

"Water!" Kat explains. "I remember now! That's brilliant! Now we'll have more water than we can drink!"

We climb down from the branches as I look for a tree that will provide us with water. I find one about twenty yards away from our tree. I use one of Kat's arrows to carve a small hole in the tree. Then, I insert the spile. After wriggling it around a little bit, water starts to trickle out; slowly at first, but it soon turns into a steady stream. We take turns putting our heads under the spile to gulp up the water. When our throats are finally satisfied, I pull out our two empty water bottles, and fill them up. When we've each had one more turn drinking the gushing water, I pull the spile out of the tree and stuff it in my bag. Now that Kat and I have a nearly endless supply of water, we have a chance in these Games. One of us may actually win.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

I have not been doing okay since Lynette died, yesterday. Physically, I've been okay; I have enough food and water. However, mentally, I've been a wreck. Every time Lynette comes to my mind, I break down and cry. I know I shouldn't cry because it wastes my limited supply of water. I can't help it, though. Lynette is one of the best friends I've ever had. Was, I remind myself. It will be tough to speak of Lynette in the past tense.

Lynette's death really opened my eyes up to the cruelty of the Hunger Games. Yes, I always believed the Hunger Games were cruel, but I was simply copying the beliefs of my parents and siblings. Now, I understand, first hand, how cruel, unfair, and unjust the Hunger Games are.

I hear the sound of leaves rustling, a few yards away from me. I feel a cold chill creep down my spine as I realize what's making the sound. The careers are back. And this time, I'm already dead. Lynette's not here to distract them as I run away.

When the careers spot me, I don't make any attempt to run. Running will just delay my intimate death. I'm going to die anyways, so why not now? The girl from District One gets closest to me first. I watch as she throws her knife at me. As it gets closer and closer, I don't make any attempt to moves. It flies into my forehead, and surprisingly, I don't feel any pain at all. As my vision turns black, I know that I'm going to a better place now; a place where I can live with Lynette. I steal one final look at the gray sky, and close my eyes for good.

**Jillian Perry (D2 F 13)**

As I walk through the forest, I can't even tell which way is up anymore. My head spins and spins, making me collapse every few seconds. I know I should probably stop, but I need to find some food and water. If I don't, I'll die.

I hear the sound of a cannon blast. At least, I think I do. Sound is becoming tough to process too. The sound of the chirping birds makes me wonder if they're taunting me right now. It must be a fun life; to be a bird. You just fly around from tree to tree. Food and water aren't hard either. When you spot either one, you just dive down and get it. And, you get to taunt little dehydrated tributes.

All of a sudden, the dark spots that have been dancing in my vision grow bigger. Everything becomes blurry, and my vision spins more than ever. I hear a rumbling sound coming from the sky, but I probably just imagined it. I lean against a tree and wait for the dizzy sensation to pass. When it doesn't, I start to get worried. I must be suffering from major dehydration. A second later, I realize that I'm lying on the ground. How did I get here? Did I fall without noticing it? I didn't know that could happen. I guess anything can happen when you're dehydrated. Speaking of that, I seem to be having hallucinations. As I drift into unconsciousness I hear that rumbling sound again, and I could swear I see a boy running towards me; a look of worry on his face.

**Thurmond Richard (D12 M 16)**

The girl's eyelids flutter close, and she passes out. I run up to her, and put my ear to her chest. Thankfully, her heart's still beating. The constant rise and fall of her chest tells me she's still breathing. Judging by the dryness of her skin and lips, she passed out from dehydration. I pull my bottle of water out of my pocket. There's only a sip or two left. I unscrew the lid, and hold the bottle over the girl's mouth. I pour the contents into the girl's mouth. Nothing happens. She must be too dehydrated. I look at the sky, which has been turning gray during the past few hours. It's also been rumbling. Both are signs of a thunderstorm. "Please," I beg. "Let it rain. Let there be a miracle."

The sky gives another rumble, but doesn't let any rain fall. I was stupid to believe the Gamemakers would actually do something to help me. And that's when I feel a water droplet fall onto my arm. "No way," I say aloud. I let some water fall into my water bottle, and pour it into the girl's mouth, hoping to revive her. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, she wakes up. "Hi," I say. "What's your name?"

The girl doesn't answer. She points to her mouth. That's when I remember who this girl is. "You're Jillian," I say, "from District Three." She nods. "And you can't talk, because of a lady at your community home." She nods again, her expression more miserable this time. "Well don't worry," I say. "I'm going to help you." Even as I say that, it sounds ridiculous. I'm barely keeping myself alive, let alone a young girl from District Three as well. As it continues to rain, harder and harder, I realize that I was wrong to enjoy the rain. After all, no gifts in the arena come without a price.

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

Since it started to rain, Smoky, Seabrook and I decided to head back to camp. It's raining really hard, and I could have sworn I saw lightning at least twice. We reach the cliff, and I look down at Lexiana and Mars, who are keeping watch. Lexiana spots us and waves. I return the wave. I look at the cliff, and realize that climbing down might be tough. One false step, and I'll slip to my death. However, the rain doesn't look like it's stopping anytime soon, so it's best if we climb down before it starts raining any harder.

I find a sturdy ledge for my foot, and start my descent down the cliff. It's lucky these shoes have good traction, or I'd be just a spot on the ground. As I reach for a new foothold, I slip, but my other three limbs hold on tight. I find a new foothold, and keep climbing down. As I continue, the rain pours down harder and harder. I hear more rumbles of thunder, and a strike of lightning startles me so much that I slip again. However I manage to regain my footing easily.

In a matter of minutes, I'm three-fourths of the way down; further than both Smoky and Seabrook. I keep going, focusing only on the task at hand. Finally, I touch down on the ground. I lie down in the mushy grass, resting from the difficult climb. That's when a shrill scream pierces the air.

I look up the cliff to see Seabrook, about three-fourths of the way down the cliff, dangling from one hand. "Help!" she shouts. But, no one can help her. Her hand slips, and she falls to the ground, screaming. She falls past Smoky, who begins to loose his balance. Seabrook lands with a thud on the ground. Before I can wonder if she's alive, a cannon blasts, signifying her death. Smoky falls too, but luckily, he was only about ten feet off of the ground. But, he lands on his ankle, which makes a crunching noise. He starts groaning, and I rush over to him, with Lexiana and Mars at my heels.

"My ankle," he groans. "I think it's broken." It certainly does look broken. It's twisted at an awkward angle.

"I'll help you," I say. "We have some first aid kits at the cornucopia. But it would be helpful if we got a sponsor gift."

Mars looks up at the sky. "Now's your time to shine, mentors!" he shouts. "Send this boy some medicine!"

Sure enough, a minute later, a silver parachute floats down. The rain and wind try to push it off-course, and it almost gets struck by lightning, but it eventually makes it to my hand. I pull out an expensive-looking cast, some pain killer, and a bottle titled 'Quick Heal.' "This'll work," I say. I bend down and rub the healing cream on Smoky ankle. I then wrap the metal cast around it. The slippery cast clicks itself into place, putting his ankle in the proper position. I scoop out a spoonful of pain killer, and give it to Smoky. He gives a sigh of relief. The Capitol medicine must work fast.

At that moment, Lexiana walks over with a four foot long branch. She hands it to Smoky. "Here," she says. "Use this as a crutch." With the help of Lexiana and I, Smoky hobbles back over to the cornucopia, and sits down on a blanket. As he does, the rain suddenly stops. The clouds clear, revealing a beautiful sunset. "That was odd," Lexiana says.

"Yeah," I agree. I look over at Mars, who's sipping from a water bottle. Then I look at the sky, where a hovercraft appears above us. It scoops up Seabrook's body, and speeds off. And just like that, the career alliance is down to three able-bodied members, plus one with a broken ankle.

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

I'm very thankful for the quick rain shower. All four of our water bottles are full, once again. We were getting really low on water, so the rain was a blessing to Carmen and I. I'm also glad that it stopped quickly. The roof of our cave was beginning to leak a little, and I wouldn't enjoy being soaked.

Right before the rain started, I heard a cannon. And, as it was pouring, I could have sworn I heard another blast, but it may have just been thunder. I'm curious to see who died, and happy that the sun has almost set. I'll find out the new death list momentarily.

Sure enough, in a matter of minutes, the Panem Anthem echoes around the arena. The first death brings joy to me; the girl from District Four. Now there are only four careers left. I next see the girl from District Five. Judging by what I saw at training, I'm surprised she lasted so long. The anthem ends and the sky goes black. "So, who's left now?" Carmen asks.

"Well, there's the four remaining careers, the girls from Districts Three, Six, and Seven, the boy from Ten, both from Eleven, and us."

"Twelve," Carmen says sadly. "Twelve tributes have died, twelve still live." She wipes away a tear, and I know what she's thinking. Eleven more tributes still have to die. And at least one of them will be from District Nine.

_**The Fallen (2):**_

**Seabrook Gloss (D4 F 17)**

She fell to her death. Climbing down the cliff, while it was raining, caused her to slip and plunge to her death.

**Noel Jackson (D5 F 14)**

Killed by Gemma. A knife was thrown into her head while she was lamenting Lynette's death.

_**Remaining Tributes (12):**_

D1:

**Gemma Hound (D1 F 18)**

**Smoky Willis (D1 M 18)**

D2:

**Lexiana Porter (D2 F 17)**

**Mars Poole (D2 M 18)**

D3:

**Jillian Perry (D3 F 13)**

D6:

**Kat Stanley (D6 F 15)**

D7:

**Ciera Dawson (D7 F 17)**

D9:

**Carmen Sylvester (D9 F 17)**

**Roland Fringe (D9 M 18)**

D10:

**Levi Dwight (D10 M 18)**

D11:

**Piper Hagen (D11 F 14)**

**Thurmond Richard (D11 M 16)**

_**Kills:**_

**Mars:** Violet, Alfred, Jorge

**Gemma:** Savannah, Noel

**Lexiana:** Eli, Lynette

**Troy**: Geoffrey

**Levi:** Jonas

_**Alliances:**_

**Gemma/Smoky/Lexiana/Mars**

**Jillian/Thurmond**

**Kat/Ciera**

**Carmen/Roland**

**Levi**

**Piper**

**And boom; we're down to half of the original tributes. So, if you don't want your character to reach an unfortunate end, please vote in the poll I've set up. :-)**


End file.
